


if you were church, i'd get on my knees

by majesdane



Category: Motherland: Fort Salem (TV)
Genre: (literally and metaphorically), Canon Universe, Dirty Talk, Discipline, F/F, Happy Ending, Humiliation, Light BDSM, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn Watching, Post-Canon, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Toys, Sex in a Car, Spanking, Strap-Ons, Vaginal Fingering, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:27:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 30,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26622904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majesdane/pseuds/majesdane
Summary: Raelle's been slacking during Basic Training. Scylla decides she needs a lesson in discipline.A series of loosely connected smut chapters. No plot to be found here at all.
Relationships: Raelle Collar/Scylla Ramshorn
Comments: 130
Kudos: 429
Collections: Lemon





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this isn't typically the kind of story i write, but my fellow m:fs writers ([holeybubushka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/holeybubushka), [vuvalinis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vuvalinis/), [99bad_habits](https://archiveofourown.org/users/99bad_habits/), and [thecaptainspeaks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecaptainspeaks)) inspired and encouraged me to go for it. so here it is! sorry there's no plot; i didn't want to write one.

wet and sapphic like any good / sinner.  
— traci brimhal, "self-deliverance"

* * *

"Five demerits. In a single week."

Raelle rubs the back of her neck awkwardly. "Well, yes," she admits to Scylla, who's sitting on her bed looking a little cross at the news that Raelle will be otherwise occupied this weekend, stuck doing menial tasks for Anacostia as punishment. "But to be fair," Raelle says, trying to be playful, "I was usually busy doing something much more important than training."

Scylla looks unamused. "So now it's _my_ fault you're slacking off in Basic?"

Raelle forces a laugh. "Scyl, it's not _entirely_ my fault."

"I'm capable of spending time with you and making it to all my training sessions on time." Scylla stands up, leaning against her desk, fingers drumming against the back of her chair. "After you got guard duty last week, I didn't expect you slacking off to become so habit-forming."

"Scylla." Raelle groans. "I'm sorry," she says in an appropriately repentant tone. "I promise, it won't happen again."

Scylla's fingers continue to drum against the back of her chair. She looks thoughtfully at Raelle, then down at her desk. Raelle can practically _hear_ an idea taking shape in Scylla's mind. Raelle plucks absentmindedly at a bit of lint on Scylla's pillow. She had expected Scylla to be disappointed that they wouldn't be able to spend their next free days together, of course, but she didn't think it would be such a big deal. It wasn't like this was the first time Raelle'd ever gotten demerits, after all.

Not usually so many in one week, though. Maybe she _was_ slacking off a bit more than usual, but –

She's startled out of her thoughts by the scrape of Scylla's desk chair being dragged to the center of the room. Scylla sits down, crossing her legs. There's a look in her eyes that has Raelle intrigued – and a little nervous. 

"Since you're so intent on acting poorly," Scylla finally says, in a voice so cool that Raelle nearly shivers. "I think I need to teach you a lesson."

And then – 

She uncrosses her legs, patting her lap.

The implication is anything but subtle.

Raelle laughs nervously. "Scyl, you can't be serious."

But the look on her face says that Scylla is _absolutely_ serious about this.

Raelle swallows hard, her mouth suddenly dry.

It's not as if this particular subject has never come up before – they've never discussed it outright, sure, but a few weeks ago, Scylla, two fingers deep and behind her, had slapped Raelle's ass with her free hand. Raelle – on elbows and knees and so _close_ to coming – had moaned and pushed back up into Scylla's hips, enjoying the unexpectedly delicious sting.

And then when Scylla had done it _again_ , Raelle _had_ come, right then and there, clenching down hard around Scylla's curling fingers, her face pressed against the mattress.

Raelle could tell Scylla liked it too; she'd been so absolutely wet and desperate to get off, grinding against Raelle's leg until Raelle took pity on her and rolled them both over, tongue dragging down between Scylla's thighs. Scylla had come so hard and fast that it left them both in a bit of a daze.

But spanking during sex is one thing: a spur of the moment type of deal. What Scylla is suggesting is another thing altogether – and the thought makes Raelle's face grow hot with embarrassment.

"Raelle," Scylla says, gentler now. "I would never make you do anything you didn't want to do. But – I think you _do_ want to, don't you?"

And, well – Raelle can't deny that she isn't at least a _little_ curious.

"Blue?"

Scylla nods. It's their safe word. Neither of them have ever had to use it before, and Raelle's completely certain that Scylla knows exactly where the line is when it comes to sex – but it's comforting to have anyway. Raelle's not used to being so . . . _experimental_ in bed. All the other girls she slept with before were civilians, and those encounters were always exceptionally tame and vanilla. For her, anyway; she knew that _they_ were getting off on the fact that she was a witch.

Which was all fine and good. She certainly wasn't complaining. But it's way more exciting being with Scylla. Even when they're making love nice and soft and slow.

The complete opposite of what _today_ will be like, it appears.

She clears her throat. "What do you want me to do?"

Scylla grins, looking very much pleased with herself. "Taking off your pants would be a good start. You can leave your underwear on." A pause. "For now."

Raelle flushes all over again. Her stomach dips with equal feelings of excitement and anxiety, heart fluttering. She shrugs off her jacket first, draping it over the edge of Scylla's bed. She undoes her belt, the button and zipper on her trousers, and lets them fall around her ankles. She steps out of them – and _God_ , she's actually already a little turned on, despite her hesitation and embarrassment – and reaches down to toss them onto the bed as well.

"Good girl," Scylla hums, and heat pools low in Raelle's belly at the sultry tone. "Now, come here." She pats her lap instructionally.

For one long second Raelle considers backing out.

But then Scylla cocks her head, biting her lip as her eyebrows lift suggestively, and Raelle thinks, _fuck it_ , because what's the worst that could happen?

She lies down over Scylla's lap, blushing and feeling ridiculous the whole time. She feels so exposed positioned like this – which, she supposes, is the whole point – and she squirms as Scylla gently grips her waist with one hand. The other settles on Raelle's bottom, and Raelle bites back a whimper, already anticipating what's to come.

Even expecting it, the first spank takes her by surprise. She jumps a little, letting out a very undignified yelp.

"Alright, Rae?" Scylla asks softly.

Raelle nods, eyes trained on the floor. "It's okay; keep going."

Truth be told, she's half expecting Scylla to give her a half dozen playful swats before tugging Raelle up so they can fuck properly.

But that couldn't be further from reality. Scylla's hand is firm, coming down in even, swift slaps. It stings a little, but it's not all that bad, even if her briefs do little to soften the impact. Raelle grips the leg of the chair to keep herself balanced in place. She can feel herself growing wetter with every slap, her hips jutting forward just a little, even if there's barely any friction to be found in this position.

She doesn't know how long it goes on; she stops keeping count after the first dozen or so strikes. All she's aware of is the steadily increasing wetness between her legs and uncomfortable warmth on her backside.

"Well," Scylla remarks, when she finally pauses, stroking along the back of Raelle's thigh comfortingly. "That was a good start, don't you think?"

Raelle blinks, twisting to meet Scylla's gaze. "'Start'?" The word comes out high and strangled.

Scylla's fingers edge along the elastic waistband of Raelle's underwear. "You didn't think that was all, did you?" she asks. "Five demerits in a single week . . . do you think you _shouldn't_ be reprimanded for something like that?"

"Well – "

"I told you that you needed to do well," Scylla continues, ignoring her and once more bringing her hand down sharply, causing Raelle to jump in surprise. Scylla sighs. "But now I see that you need a little extra encouragement to be good."

"I will be, Scylla. Honestly."

"I'm not sure if I believe you. You've been very naughty."

Before Raelle can protest, Scylla's pulling down her underwear. Raelle shivers as the cool air in the room hits her ass, her cunt. Scylla tugs Raelle's briefs down to mid-thigh and then –

Her fingers dip into Raelle slightly, sliding easily.

"My," Scylla says in a stern tone that makes Raelle feel marvelously weak. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were _enjoying_ your punishment."

Raelle bows her head, saying nothing. It's a little humiliating, being bent over Scylla's lap like this, her bare ass red and stinging, and – and her cunt remarkably wet. She can't believe she's so turned on right now. She groans as Scylla's fingers continue their exploration, bumping just _slightly_ against her clit. She pushes into Scylla's hand, needing _more_ , but Scylla tuts and pulls her hand away, ignoring Raelle's whine of protest.

Scylla wipes her wet fingers on the back of Raelle's thigh. "Not yet, Private. We're not done."

Though her tone is level, there's heat behind it, and Raelle thinks she could come right then and there.

But then Scylla shifts, repositioning herself and Raelle just slightly, and Raelle re-establishes her grip on the chair leg, one palm flat against the floor. She bites down on the inside of her cheek, preparing herself.

It hurts decidedly more to be spanked on bare skin – or maybe it's just that her skin was already smarting before they began round two. Raelle twitches with every measured slap, letting out a tiny whimper of pain every now and then. 

Still – it's not _unbearable_. It hurts, yes, but in a good kind of way that has Raelle's skin buzzing and her head cloudy with lust.

"I hope you're learning your lesson, Raelle," Scylla chastises as she continues with the spanking, bringing her hand down again and again and again. "Do you want to flunk out of Basic? Do you want to disappoint me like that?"

"Nngh – no, ma'am," Raelle grits out, yelping again as Scylla's hand hits the spot where the curve of her ass and thigh meet. "Please," she moans quietly. "Scyl, I – I think – that's enough – "

"I don't recall asking you."

Their safe word dances on the tip of Raelle's tongue – she almost says it. But the thing is, she doesn't really want to stop. She wants to see just how far they'll take this. Despite the pain, she's really actually enjoying this power dynamic. It's a new sensation, letting herself be vulnerable and humiliated like this, and it's shockingly good. Even now, she's dripping, positively _pulsing_ with desire.

And Scylla seems to be enjoying it too – which only serves to make Raelle even _more_ turned on. She loves making Scylla feel good, indulging her in every way possible. And she doesn't mind it, ever, when Scylla takes control.

Mostly because Scylla is so _very_ good at it.

The second round lasts even longer than the first. Or so it feels. There's a _bite_ now to the slaps that wasn't there before. Raelle presses her mouth against her arm in order to muffle her tiny mewls of pain. Tears prick at the edges of her eyes.

At last Scylla relents.

"Hey." She reaches down to stroke the base of Raelle's neck affectionately. "Raelle? You still doing okay?"

"Yeah," Raelle manages to croak out. She's still embarrassingly turned on, but she's stiff and sore from the position and being spanked so soundly.

Scylla's hand moves to Raelle's bottom, lightly caressing the inflamed skin. Raelle flinches at the touch at first, then relaxes into it. Scylla's fingers move dangerously towards her center and Raelle, relieved, thinks _finally_ , but then, just as before, Scylla pulls her hand away.

She pats Raelle's thigh. "We're almost done. Promise."

Raelle moans. "Scyl . . . "

"I want you to get up and go to my desk. There's a hairbrush in the middle drawer."

"Scyl!"

Scylla's hand settles firmly on her ass. A warning.

Raelle sighs, hanging her head. It's not going to do any good to argue; she agreed to this, and she _still_ hasn't said their safe word. She wonders if the prolonged twin feelings of pleasure and pain have completely ruined her ability to think properly. She climbs awkwardly to her feet, legs wobbly. Her underwear's still bunched up around her thighs; she shucks it off unceremoniously, kicking it aside.

God – she's not used to Scylla's hands being so rough. Not like this, anyway. She rubs at her sore bottom as she crosses the room, praying there won't be any training tomorrow that involves sitting. She might just die on the spot.

As she fetches the hairbrush, she hears Scylla get up and cross the room. When she turns around, Scylla's right behind her. Raelle takes in the sight of her. This whole thing is _definitely_ affecting Scylla as strongly as it is Raelle. There's a flush to her cheeks and her eyes are dark with lust. She's taken off her jacket, revealing the black tank top underneath. Raelle loves kissing the constellations of freckles along Scylla's chest and arms.

She wants to do it right now –

Scylla plucks the hairbrush from Raelle's hands. "Almost done," she repeats, her hand resting reassuringly on the small of Raelle's back.

Raelle watches as Scylla pushes a stack of books and papers aside, clearing up space on the desk.

"Lean forward on your elbows."

Raelle does as she's instructed, bending over and leaning on the desk. She breathes in sharply as Scylla's hand slides from her neck to lower back to trail faintly along the swell of her ass.

Scylla kisses Raelle's shoulder. "You've been doing so well," she murmurs. She presses a kiss to Raelle's cheek. "Now, be a good girl for the last bit of your punishment and I'll make you feel _much_ better." Her arm snakes around Raelle's waist, fingers skimming across fine, wet curls.

Raelle nods, swallowing thickly. She can hardly think straight. "Okay."

The first crack of the hairbrush against her sensitive skin makes Raelle jolt up in pain. " _Ow_ , Scylla."

There's Scylla's hand at the small of her back again, easing Raelle back down into position. "Shh. You can handle it, can't you?"

Truthfully, Raelle's not entirely she can. But she's made it this far already, and Scylla's already promised to finally make her come after it's over. She's so wet she can feel it on the insides of her thighs, hot and slick. All she can think about how, when she gets Scylla underneath her, she is going to make Scylla _beg_.

Fair's fair, after all.

The second spank from the hairbrush hurts even worse than the first and Raelle cries out, fresh tears springing to her eyes.

"That's the loudest I've heard you so far," Scylla comments. "What do you think the neighbors will think? Hearing you being so thoroughly disciplined like this."

Hot embarrassment washes over Raelle. She hasn't thought about that – the very tell-tale sounds of their recent activities. She's usually not at all ashamed of being loud during sex; she relishes listening to Scylla's strangled cries and the way her voice pitches higher and higher as she begs Raelle for _faster, harder, please, Raelle, pleasepleaseplease_.

The idea of Scylla's floor-mates knowing Raelle's being _spanked_ –

Scylla laughs, though not unkindly. "I'm just teasing, Raelle," she says sweetly. "I sang a Silencing Seed over the room before you arrived. I'm not keen on anyone listening in on this kind of private moment." She leans in and kisses Raelle, long and slow. "Now, just a little more."

The blows come hard and fast then, leaving Raelle breathless. She jerks with each strike, but Scylla's hand on her back keeps her firmly in place, as Raelle squirms increasingly more and more with discomfort.

"Scylla, _please_!"

Scylla stills. "Blue?"

Raelle sniffles, wiping away a stray tear.

"It's okay," Scylla tells her gently. "I think that's enough."

She sets the brush down on the desk and moves in to wrap her arms around Raelle, hugging her comfortingly. Raelle feels Scylla nestle her face against the crook of her neck, trailing light kisses. They stay like that for a few quiet moments, Raelle's muscles relaxing as she catches her breath, relieved her punishment is finally over.

She's a little ashamed about crying, but, well. It _hurt_. A lot. Though she feels better now, having Scylla hold her like this. Scylla's looked after her every step of the way, always checking to make sure that she and Raelle were on the same page. It's strange, but there's a tenderness to the hurt that Raelle finds intoxicating.

Scylla's breath comes hot and damp against Raelle's ear. "I believe there's something I owe you now, hm?"

Raelle's breath hitches. "Yes."

Scylla has her sit on the desk; Raelle hisses as her very sore ass makes contact with the cool, hard wood. She shifts, trying to ease the irritation. She has to remember to ask Scylla to Fix her later, because otherwise she is _definitely_ going to be a mess tomorrow during training.

But there's no more time to think about _that_ as Scylla kneels down, settling between Raelle's legs. She pushes at Raelle's knees, spreading her legs further, and Raelle groans with desperation. All she can think about is the way her cunt _throbs_ , needing release more than anything.

The first long lick of Scylla's tongue causes Raelle's hips to jut forward roughly. Scylla chuckles, evidently pleased at the way Raelle's responding to finally being properly touched. She meets Raelle's gaze, kissing the inside of her thigh and very shiny mark, before moving in again.

Scylla wastes no time, her tongue moving in slow, purposeful laps against Raelle's clit, her fingers digging into Raelle's thighs, keeping her spread. Raelle moans, arching up against Scylla's mouth. She threads her fingers through Scylla's hair, tugging encouragingly as she feels herself already coiling tighter and tighter, climbing towards release.

She's been wet from the minute Scylla ordered her to take off her pants, and now she's finally, _finally_ getting what she's wanted all along. There's no better sensation that the press of Scylla's tongue; she's wickedly good with her mouth. It shouldn't even be legal.

Scylla wraps her lips around Raelle's clit, sucking on it, and Raelle nearly comes right then. She tips her head back, creeping closer and closer to the edge.

"Scyl," she pants, muscles straining. "Fingers. _Please_."

Scylla obliges her, thrusting in one, then two fingers, all the way up to the knuckle. After a few deep strokes, she adds a third, and Raelle groans again at the absolutely delicious stretch. She can see herself from a distance, riding Scylla's mouth and fingers, her red bottom shifting back and forth across the desk in time with the rock of her hips. The room fills with the sounds of their exertions: moans and pants and the scrape of the desk legs on the floor and the divinely _filthy_ sounds of Scylla's thrusting fingers.

God, she'd been hesitant at first, but the combination of being spanked good and proper and then thoroughly serviced is mind-blowing.

The coil inside Raelle snaps and she comes with a loud cry, jutting against Scylla's mouth.

Scylla doesn't stop; she keeps going until Raelle comes a second time a few minutes later, her legs hooked around Scylla's shoulders, heels digging into her back. Raelle can barely breathe, so dazed by her orgasms. She sags back against the wall, her blood still pounding in her ears.

"I don't think I can move," she manages to say, as Scylla stands up, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand then licking her fingers clean.

Raelle's body twitches again at the sight of Scylla, looking so delightfully debauched, her hair mussed, her lips pink and swollen, a blush creeping from her face down her neck.

"I got you," Scylla says with a smile, scooping Raelle up into her arms.

Raelle will _never_ get over how surprisingly strong Scylla is.

Scylla places her gently down on the bed, then crawls in beside her, tugging the blankets up over their bodies. "How's your – ?" She runs her palm over Raelle's ass, frowning a little when Raelle winces. "Sorry. Was it too much?"

Raelle shakes her head. She leans in for a kiss. "It was . . . more fun than I expected. Can we do it again sometime?"

"Maybe. If I think you're in need of disciplining." Scylla laughs. "Want me to Fix you up?"

Raelle's hand settles on Scylla's belt, giving it a slight tug. "Nope. There's something I need to do first."

She slowly undoes Scylla's belt buckle, popping open the button and easing down the zipper. When she pushes her hand inside Scylla's underwear, she finds it immediately coated with Scylla's arousal.

"You're so wet, Scyl," she murmurs, as Scylla sighs and moves against Raelle's hand. Raelle kisses her again, this time lighter than the first. It's a quick, teasing kiss. "Maybe next time I'll discipline _you_ ," she says, against Scylla's mouth.

The stunned expression on Scylla's face at that is almost better than seeing her come a few minutes later.

Almost.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raelle asks for more; Scylla obliges.

"Do you remember that thing we did a couple weeks ago? You know . . ."

From the way she clears her throat and shifts in her seat, Scylla knows _exactly_ what Raelle's talking about. But when she turns to meet Raelle's gaze, her expression is placid — except for the tiny quirking at the corners of her mouth that reveal she's holding back a smile. 

"Hmm, I'm not sure I recall."

"Really."

Scylla's mouth twitches again. "Perhaps you should refresh my memory."

Raelle chuckles, ducking her head. "I know you remember very well. You just want to hear me say it." She hesitates, a little bashful. "When you, uh, spanked me."

Scylla grins wolfishly. "Oh. _That_."

She's such a tease. Raelle would find it exasperating if it wasn't so damn attractive. And there's just something so damn appealing to be able to wipe the grin from Scylla's face when Raelle slides between her legs and makes Scylla come so hard she can barely speak. 

"I was wondering," Raelle starts cautiously, perching on the edge of Scylla's bed. "Could we maybe, um. Do it again?"

"Why?" Scylla raises an eyebrow, still grinning. "Have you done something bad that I don't know about?"

"No!" Raelle blurts, flushing at how whiny it comes out sounding. "No, I just think, well . . . We both really enjoyed it. And I mean, we don't have to, if you don't want to," she hurries on, putting up her hands.

She knows that Scylla enjoyed their little . . . _discipline_ session quite a lot, but she also doesn't want to pressure Scylla into doing anything either. They haven't really talked about it at all since it happened. These past few weeks have been nothing but their usual routines in bed, and while Raelle totally does not mind that at all — there's nothing better than Scylla's fingers and tongue between Raelle's thighs — she's gotten a taste of something new. And she _really_ wants more. She can barely even look at a desk lately without thinking of being bent over it.

Scylla leans back in her chair looking thoughtful. "You're sure?" she asks.

Raelle nods. "Please, Scyl?"

"Well, since you asked so nicely." Scylla crosses the room and leans down to kiss Raelle. "I'll oblige you. But," she continues, as Raelle leans in for another kiss, already excited. "I won't go easy on you. Not like last time."

"That was easy?"

Scylla's expression is equal parts stern and smoldering. "Do you want to find out?" She traces a finger delicately along the curve of Raelle's jaw. 

Raelle very much does, the heat pooling low in her belly stronger than the little flutter of anxiety at the thought of what Scylla is planning. 

Scylla pushes at Raelle's shoulders until Raelle gets the message and shifts back a little on the bed. Scylla climbs on top of Raelle's lap, straddling her, and Raelle has to resist the urge to arch up to try and get a tiny bit of friction. She's already so turned on — the feeling only intensifies as Scylla kisses her again, her tongue dipping into Raelle's mouth. Scylla's hands slide down Raelle's body from her neck, brushing over her breasts, and then finally landing on her belt.

Raelle licks her lips in anticipation. The sound of Scylla undoing Raelle's belt buckle seems very loud in the sudden silence of the room.

It doesn't quite register what Scylla might be up to until Raelle feels her belt sliding through the loops. And then Scylla's holding it up in front of her. She wraps the wide strip of leather around her palm, then climbs off of Raelle, smirking.

"On your feet, Private."

Raelle bolts up eagerly. 

"Hold out your hands, please."

As Scylla sings a Silencing Seed over the room, just like before, she loops the belt around Raelle's wrists, binding them snugly together. Raelle tugs at her wrists experimentally; there's a little give, but not much. Thankfully the leather has grown softer with wear, or she thinks the way it chafes against her skin might be too much.

"There." Scylla pats her arm. "Wouldn't want you reaching back to try and protect yourself, would we?"

Raelle is going to die. Her cunt _throbs_ ; she's so wet already at being made helpless like this.

"Now," Scylla continues, circling her. "Go face the mirror and bend over."

God, Raelle thinks she could come right then and there. Scylla ordering her around is sexy as hell in general, but the thought of being able to _watch_ Scylla spank her makes Raelle's brain short-circuit. She does as instructed, hands in front of her, looking at Scylla in the mirror. She can't help but let out a whimper as she sees Scylla take off her own belt, folding it half as she strides over toward Raelle.

Scylla leans in close, whispering hotly against Raelle's ear. "I'm going to thrash you within an inch of your life. And I might not Fix you after we're done." She pauses, nipping at Raelle's earlobe, and Raelle trembles. "Do you understand, Raelle?"

Raelle nods, her mouth dry, her heart galloping away in her chest. 

"I'll stop if you want me too." Scylla nips at her earlobe a second time. "But I won't stop unless you ask for it."

She skirts behind Raelle, one hand lingering on the small of Raelle's back, just like before. A reassurance. Raelle breathes in deeply, attempting to prepare herself. She certainly wasn't expecting this when she'd asked for Scylla for a repeat performance of their last time. It's honestly a little bit terrifying; she knows the belt is going to hurt a hell of a lot more than the hairbrush.

But she asked for it — she was the one who gave permission. So she's hardly in a position to complain.

She glances up at their reflections, meeting Scylla's gaze. 

The first _whap_ of the belt against Raelle's ass makes her cry out in surprise and pain. Even with her underpants and trousers on, the impact of the belt is shockingly sharp. She bites down on her lip as the belt connects with her bottom again. Then a third time. And then Raelle's head goes a little fuzzy and she stops trying to count the strikes. She's more focused on the pooling wetness between her legs and trying not to cry out too much as Scylla continues whipping her.

No one can hear them — Scylla made sure of that — but there's something utterly embarrassing to Raelle about crying while being spanked. She's certain it'll happen _eventually_ — and the thought makes her hot with shame. 

She really doesn't have time to focus on that though, as Scylla speeds up just a little, striking her three times in quick succession. They're hard hits, and Raelle's momentarily breathless, shaking from restraint. Her thighs are beginning to ache from holding so still. 

"You're doing so well, Raelle," Scylla remarks. "And so quiet."

_Whap._

"Perhaps I'm being too gentle with you."

Raelle shakes her head quickly. "No, Scylla. It — it hurts."

"That _is_ the intended effect," Scylla admonishes. "Or did you forget last time? Don't worry; I'll make sure you don't forget this."

Raelle yelps as the belt comes down _hard_ , harder than any of the other swats. Despite her best attempts to stay still, she can't help but straighten up a little, squirming. She's filled with a sudden desperate desire to protect herself, and she whines as her wrists strain against their bindings.

Scylla's tone is cool. "Bend over, Raelle. I won't tell you again."

"Scylla — " 

"Do you want to stop?" Scylla flexes the belt in her hands. 

It's a dangerous question. Raelle knows Scylla is _utterly_ aware of her inability to admit defeat; she won't stop until Raelle begs her to. On the other hand, however, the way Scylla had rewarded her _following_ the last punishment had been so damn good that Raelle'd gotten herself off to the thought in the shower the next morning. Raelle doesn't mind hurting — not when the end result is so pleasurable.

"We can keep going," she tells Scylla.

"Good," Scylla chirps, and reaches forward to tug Raelle's trousers and underwear down to her knees with one swift motion.

Raelle swallows hard to rid herself of the lump in her throat. She really didn't think this through. "Scyl — "

"No talking," Scylla interjects sternly. "This is what you wanted. You _asked_ for this. So unless you're going to say our safe word, I don't want to hear it. Got it?"

Raelle makes a tiny sound of agreement. When she shifts in place, her legs slide against each other, slick with wetness. She will never understand how something like this can make her so deliciously wet. It feels so very naughty to be so aroused right now, but even the intense embarrassment at such a thing does little to quell the flames licking against her insides.

Scylla doesn't bother to speak; Raelle watches as she flexes the belt a second time before delivering a hard smack to Raelle's ass.

It hurts. However much it hurt when it was just over her clothes, it hurts ten times more on her bare bottom. The safe word lingers on the tip of her tongue and Raelle _almost_ says it, before Scylla brings the belt down again, taking her breath away. The swats come faster than before, one after another.

Raelle's eyes burn; another swat and hot tears roll down her cheeks. Her legs wobble unsteadily. Scylla's warned her already about not moving, and Raelle's afraid to disobey. She knows Scylla won't actually hurt her — not in any way Raelle doesn't want — but she doesn't want to test her limits. 

And yet, Raelle _does_ move again, two strikes later, crying out. She straightens, twisting away. "Please, Scylla."

Scylla is against her in an instant, fisting a handful of Raelle's shirt. "If you want to stop, we'll stop," she says in a voice that could make Raelle melt into a puddle on the floor. "If not — I specifically told you _not_ to move."

With a firm grip on Raelle's shirt, she guides Raelle over to the bed. She pushes Raelle down so that she's bent over the edge of the bed, her face pressed against the mattress, her ass completely exposed. It's absolutely mortifying to be in such a vulnerable position, but at least she can relax a little. She turns her head, trying to catch a glimpse of Scylla out of the corner of her eye.

She flinches, hips jutting forward when Scylla runs her blunted nails lightly over sensitive skin. "You were such a good girl last time, Raelle. So quiet and obedient." She spanks Raelle once with her open palm; Raelle cries out at the sting. "Is this too much for you to handle?"

Scylla wants her to give in. A part of Raelle does, too. But she can't help being stubborn. She'll let Scylla tire herself out first. 

"No." 

"Hm. We'll see." She slaps Raelle's ass with her hand a second time. "I'm going to give you twenty more strokes — "

"Twenty?!" Perhaps it _would_ be best to give up now. 

" — and I want you to count them. If you forget to count, or make a mistake, we'll start all over again. But once we're done . . . "

Her hand slides between Raelle's thighs for the first time, and it's _heavenly_ , the way her fingers dip inside Raelle, the way her fingers stroke Raelle's aching clit. Raelle pushes back into her hand, enjoying being touched. The pleasure is fleeting, however; Scylla removes her hand after a minute.

She puts wet fingers in front of Raelle's mouth. "Lick."

Raelle does so happily, moaning as she tastes herself on Scylla's fingers.

Scylla strokes Raelle's face tenderly, her façade melting for just a moment. "Ready?"

"Yes. Scyl. Please."

She squeals as the first blow lands only seconds later. "One," she manages to say, her voice muffled by the mattress. 

She makes it nearly halfway before she forgets to count, wriggling and tensing in an fruitless attempt to ease the sting of each smack of the belt. She's crying again, sniffling and nodding, face hot, as Scylla soberly informs her that they'll have to start over. 

Thankfully, she gets through the next twenty without a hitch, somehow managing not to falter despite the burning pain. She relaxes with a sob as Scylla sets her own belt aside and gently undoes the one around Raelle's wrists. The skin there is pink and sore; Scylla frowns and kisses them softly.

Raelle lies boneless on the bed, still bent over but too exhausted to move. Her whole body seems to ache — her ass smarts something fierce and she very much hopes that Scylla takes pity on her and Fixes her after all. She hasn't been entirely obedient, not like before, but this spanking felt a thousand times worse than the last one. She would rather take the hairbrush any day.

The hot pulsing between her legs reminds her it's not _all_ bad, though. 

"Easy," Scylla murmurs, as she helps Raelle stand.

She rubs Raelle's bottom soothingly; Raelle feels the slightly warm, familiar feeling of Fixing as Scylla takes the edge off the sting. She's still very much sore, but at least it's slightly more tolerable now.

How ridiculous, she thinks, with a blush. Having to be Fixed after a spanking. She's glad Scylla's capable of doing it herself, because Raelle would absolutely not be able to handle training the next day with a sore ass. Or, God forbid — if she had to go to the infirmary for help. She would rather die. 

Scylla smiles sweetly, pulling Raelle close. "Hey," she says, nuzzling against Raelle's neck, the dry brush of her lips on Raelle's skin eliciting a shiver. "You okay?"

"I'm okay." Raelle hugs her tight. "It was a lot, but . . . yeah." She sighs, sagging against Scylla. 

They stay like that for a minute, then Scylla untangles herself from Raelle's arms. "Now comes the _fun_ part."

Raelle very much thinks that the _fun_ part started for Scylla the moment Raelle asked her for a spanking. But Scylla's looking at her like she wants to eat Raelle alive, and well, Raelle is not going to argue semantics right now. Not when she's so wet she can practically feel it dripping down her legs.

Scylla helps her undress, and then strips down herself.

Raelle takes in the sight of Scylla naked. The smattering of freckles all over her pale skin — including the one right near a nipple that Raelle especially likes — and the way she's flushed so prettily, looking every bit as charged up as Raelle feels. She moves forward and kisses Raelle hungrily; a hot, wet kiss that causes the fire in Raelle's body to roar back to life.

She needs to have Scylla. _Now._

But Scylla, of course, has other plans. As soon as Raelle reaches between her legs, Scylla steps away, frustratingly out of reach.

"Not like that," Scylla says, her mouth a wicked grin. "Lie down on the bed."

Raelle doesn't need to be told twice.

She watches as Scylla drags her desk chair over to the side of the bed, sitting down.

"Scyl?"

"I want to watch you touch yourself, Raelle." Scylla's voice is low and husky, heavy with lust. "I want you to make yourself come for me."

Raelle whines. "No fair."

Scylla blinks, adopting an innocent tone. "I don't remember ever saying _I'd_ make you feel better."

 _Such_ a fucking _tease_.

But right now, the ache between her legs is so persistent, so _strong_ , that she doesn't even care. She slides her hand between her thighs without pretense, finding her clit and stroking roughly. Her hand makes the most decadently filthy sounds as her fingers slip-slide against her wet cunt. God, she's so _close_ already. She's been wet from the moment Scylla agreed to this whole thing — _fuck_ , even before then, simply imaging the look on Scylla's face to receive such a request.

She forces herself to keep her eyes open, steadily holding Scylla's gaze. She rocks into her own hand as her fingers find _just_ the right spot, bolts of pleasure going off in her body like fireworks. She grips the sheets with her free hand, focusing on the way Scylla's lips part just so, the flush between her breasts, the hardened nipples, the way her hand creeps closer to her own center.

She imagines her hand as Scylla's hand, moving in fluid, practiced strokes. 

And then Scylla breathes, "Oh, Raelle," soft as a sigh, and —

Raelle comes against her own hand with a sharp cry, hips jutting up as she sees stars.

Now she really is completely spent. She sinks back down onto the bed with a shaky sigh, unable to keep her eyes open any longer. She feels utterly exhausted. And now that she's come, she's uncomfortably aware of just how _soundly_ Scylla whipped her. When she reaches around to rub her ass, the skin is warm to the touch, and she can feel the slight raise of welts. 

She opens her eyes again at the scrape of the chair against the floor; Scylla climbs into bed with her, kissing Raelle roughly. When Raelle rolls onto her side, she slides a knee between Scylla's legs. Her breath hitches when she feels how wet Scylla is; Scylla's self-control is enviable. Raelle's amazed that Scylla didn't get herself off while watching Raelle do the same.

"Needy," Raelle says with a chuckle, as Scylla grinds against her thigh. " _Awfully_ needy for someone who's been so mean to me this afternoon."

Scylla rolls her eyes, groaning and rocking her hips. "I only did what you asked, Rae." Her eyes are wide and dark, her breath coming in hot, short pants. 

"Yes, you did," Raelle admits, kissing her. She tweaks one of Scylla's nipples, delighting in the gasp it provokes. "But you're very good at not playing fair."

"What — " Scylla starts, as Raelle thumbs her nipple slowly. "What do you want?"

Raelle hums. "So _many_ things." She draws out the words, pushing her knee against Scylla as she continues to rock against it. "Let's start with you making me come with that pretty, talented mouth of yours."

Scylla blinks, looking dazed. But then she laughs and, with a kiss, is _most_ accommodating to Raelle's request.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scylla is a tease; Raelle teaches her a lesson.

Scylla's being a tease. Again.

It starts first at lunch, when Scylla sits beside her in the mess hall and keeps running her fingers along the inside of Raelle's thigh, all while pretending to listen intently to Tally relaying the events of that morning's training. Raelle is barely able to keep a straight face, staring down at her tray and willing herself not to make any embarrassing noises.

Dinner is even worse; at one point Scylla actually _cups_ Raelle with her hand, pressing down lightly, and Raelle has to jump up from the table and excuse herself to get a glass of water. As she walks back to the table, Scylla catches her eye, winking and grinning.

She knows _exactly_ what she's doing to Raelle.

After dinner, they take a walk together around base as night settles over Fort Salem. When they reach their tree, Scylla pushes Raelle up against it, kissing her deeply as she nudges her thigh up between Raelle's legs, shifting encouragingly.

Raelle nips at Scylla's throat, her fingers skimming bare skin where Scylla's shirt has ridden up. "You're being such a tease tonight," she admonishes. "So naughty."

"Oh?" Scylla's hand lingers on the back of Raelle's neck. "And what do you plan to do about it?"

The thought comes to Raelle instantly; a bolt of particularly filthy inspiration.

"I should pull your pants down right here and spank you," she says in the sternest tone she can manage. She pauses, leaning back to meet Scylla's gaze. 

"You wouldn't dare." Scylla is light and flippant. Smug.

It's a challenge.

Raelle doesn't let herself think — she grabs Scylla's shoulders and spins her around, pushing her up against the tree and pinning her in place with her arm. Scylla gasps, not fighting back, but actually arching her hips into the tree with a tiny whimper that sends a hot streak of arousal straight through Raelle. 

She presses herself up against Scylla. "You've been wanting this all night, haven't you?" she purrs against Scylla's ear.

She slides her free hand down around to Scylla's belt, slowly working the buckle free. When she's undone the button and zipper, she slides her hand down further, pushing past Scylla's underwear to find her already wet and eager. 

Scylla moans, rocking against Raelle's hand. "Yes."

"Then I'm going to give you exactly what you want."

Raelle strokes Scylla's clit once more before pulling her hand away, prompting a disappointed whine from Scylla that evolves into another gasp as Raelle unceremoniously yanks her pants and underwear down to the tops of Scylla's thighs.

Scylla whimpers again as Raelle trails her fingers along the swell of her ass. Raelle's struggling to keep her cool right now, trying to seem as cold and aloof as Scylla had been in the past when they'd done this sort of thing. But, frankly, right now Raelle wants to forgo all the playing and simply _ravage_ Scylla.

It's not what _Scylla_ wants though. She wants to be yelping and trembling — and Raelle understands that desire with perfect clarity. She's more than happy to indulge her. 

"Stay still," she orders, and feels Scylla nod.

The first couple of slaps she gives Scylla are light, experimental. They've always done this kind of thing indoors, where no one else can hear them. But the _smack_ of her palm against bare skin suddenly sounds exceedingly _loud_ , and Raelle feels the tips of her ears grow hot just thinking about the idea of someone hearing them. 

Never mind someone _seeing_ them.

But Scylla doesn't seem worried at all. Or, possibly, the chance of getting caught is _exactly_ why she groans and says, "Raelle, harder, please," in a tone dripping with lust.

Raelle's spurred into action. She brings her hand down harder, her mind short-circuiting for a brief second as Scylla breathes in sharply, pressing harder against the tree. When Raelle spanks her again, a loud _crack_ that seems to echo in the silence of night, Scylla's hands instinctively flit to cover herself.

"No," Raelle tells her, grabbing Scylla's wrists and holding them behind her back. "That isn't allowed." 

She brings her hand down again and again and again, until her palm is stinging and Scylla's yelping and twisting away. Raelle can feel her own cunt pulse with need every time Scylla jerks against her touch, trying to free her hands. She's much more sensitive than Raelle is, apparently, and it makes Raelle just want to spank her _more_. When she pauses to rub Scylla's ass, the skin is warm to the touch. 

And when she slides her hands between Scylla's legs, she finds Scylla absolutely _dripping_.

Raelle simply can't go any further, not with her own arousal driving her half-mad. The night's still young; they can go back to Scylla's room —

But Raelle doesn't want to wait. She needs Scylla _now_. Needs Scylla's mouth on her, her fingers inside her. She releases Scylla's hands, stepping back so that she can turn around. When Scylla reaches for her pants, though, Raelle stops her.

"Keep them down."

Scylla nods meekly, and Raelle watches her throat bob as Scylla swallows hard, licking her lips.

Raelle leans back against the tree, undoing her pants. "Come here," she says, and tugs Scylla in for a heated kiss.

When Scylla's tongue slides against hers, it feels like tiny little fireworks going off inside Raelle. The air around them is electric; Raelle shudders as Scylla coaxes up her shirt, her palms sliding up to cover Raelle's breasts, squeezing gently. Raelle moans into Scylla's mouth, pulling her closer. She squeezes Scylla's ass with her hands, pleased when she lets out a tiny mewl of pain.

"On your knees," Raelle says, breaking the kiss, her heart racing. 

"Like this?" Scylla's demure façade slides away, and she's back to being smugly confident.

She hooks her fingers into Raelle's belt-loops, tugging her trousers down to her knees. Before Raelle can speak, Scylla surges forward, pressing a wet, open-mouthed kiss to Raelle's center, right over her underwear. Raelle groans, her head smacking against the tree as her eyes roll back in her head. She threads her fingers through Scylla's hair, pushing Scylla's mouth into her. Scylla _hums_ , and Raelle thinks she could come right now.

Scylla's fingers hook into the elastic waistband of Raelle's briefs, nudging them down. Raelle grunts, jutting her hips forward as Scylla drags her tongue along the inside of Raelle's thigh, swirling around her mark, before dipping into Raelle. Raelle grips the back of Scylla's head harder as Scylla finds her clit, lapping gently.

"More, Scylla," Raelle demands.

Scylla looks up at her with wide, dark eyes. It's only for a second, though — she closes her eyes and presses her tongue down harder as she pushes one, then another finger into Raelle. It's absolutely debauched, the sounds Scylla's mouth and fingers are making, and Raelle has never felt so slutty in her entire life. 

They're out in the open where _anyone_ can see, and they no longer have the excuse of it being Beltane, from three days past. 

But Raelle can't even begin to care — not when Scylla wraps her mouth around her clit and sucks hard, her fingers pumping. Raelle, the blood pounding in her ears, pushes Scylla's face into her cunt even further, flexing her hips up. She's teetering along the edge of her orgasm, already seeing stars —

And then she _does_ come, with a loud, strangled cry, jerking against Scylla's mouth. 

Scylla brings her down with a series of gentle licks, then sits back on her haunches. Raelle gazes down again at her with heavy-lidded eyes, struggling to catch her breath. She puts all her body weight against the tree, not trusting her legs to hold her up. 

"Good?"

Scylla looks so damn pleased with herself. Her mouth and chin are glistening with Raelle's wetness, her hair mussed, and Raelle nearly comes again just from the sight of it. She yanks up her underwear and pants, leaning down to kiss Scylla, enjoying tasting herself on Scylla's tongue. 

When Scylla stands, Raelle grabs her arm to turn her around, appraising Scylla's bare ass the moonlight. There's a distinctive dark pink tinge to it, and Scylla finches just the tiniest bit, as if expecting Raelle to resume the spanking. 

A part of Raelle would like to do just that, but there's _much_ more she'd _prefer_ to do to Scylla. And for that they actually need privacy. She's frantic with excitement again already, just imagining it all. They need to get back to Scylla's room right now, because she can hardly contain herself. 

She pulls Scylla's pants up for her, refastening them. Scylla's labored breathing doesn't escape Raelle's notice; she knows Scylla must be absolutely _aching_ to be touched properly.

"Come on," Raelle says, tugging her in the direction of Scylla's dorm room. 

They make it back in record time; Scylla fumbles twice with the keys, cursing. When she finally manages to get the door unlocked, she tugs Raelle inside by her shirt, pressing her up against the door with a heady kiss. 

Raelle can feel Scylla grinding against her; that just won't do. Raelle's determined to punish her properly.

"I don't think so, soldier," she says, ducking out of the embrace and leaving Scylla panting and unsatisfied. "You're not allowed to come until I say so," Raelle directs Scylla sharply. "Got it?"

"Raelle . . ." Scylla whines, leaning against the door. Her face is flushed pink; it's nearly the same color as her spanked bottom, and Raelle feels herself grow wet all over again at the thought. "Raelle, please."

Raelle shakes her head. "You'll just have to wait."

Scylla huffs. "Tease."

"Not liking a taste of your own medicine so much, huh?" Raelle grins, sitting down on the bed. She inches backwards until she's resting against the wall, motioning towards Scylla's desk. "In the meantime — middle drawer, right?"

Scylla blinks, looking dumbfounded. When Raelle clears her throat expectantly, Scylla starts, hurrying over to her desk and retrieving the hairbrush. She hands it to Raelle, looking a little embarrassed and _very_ turned on. 

"Should I — ?" Scylla gestures towards her pants. 

Raelle nods, humming a Seed to soundproof the room while she waits. "Underwear too," she adds, as Scylla's pants fall to the floor, pooling around her ankles. "And then over my lap, please."

The tiny moan that escapes Scylla makes Raelle's mouth go dry and her cunt throb. She crawls onto the bed, laying herself over Raelle's lap. Raelle's only ever been at the receiving end of a spanking, but she's just as aroused now as she was then. There's something indescribably delectable about having Scylla in such a vulnerable position. Maybe, Raelle thinks through a lust-induced haze, it's partly because it means Scylla trusts her enough to see her like this. 

Whatever the reason, Raelle's uncomfortably wet, and Scylla's weight across her lap isn't helping matters at all.

She picks the hairbrush off the bed, tapping it lightly against Scylla's ass. Scylla trembles at the touch, breathing out a tiny _oh_. Raelle pats Scylla's back reassuringly.

"Just tell me if you need to stop," she says.

Scylla props herself up on her elbows, turning her head so that Raelle can see her face. 

After the first _smack_ of the hairbrush, however, Scylla drops her head back down. Raelle watches her fist the sheets in her hands, straining to hold still as the hairbrush comes down a second, third, and fourth time. It's only a handful of swats, but already her skin's turning back to a lovely shade of pink. Pausing only for a second to admire her handiwork, Raelle continues on with the spanking.

Although she starts out quiet at first, it doesn't take very long for Scylla to get loud. She yelps and cries out every time the hairbrush makes contact, wriggling and kicking her legs a little, and even if her face _is_ pressed against the mattress, it's still enough to make Raelle glad that no one can hear them. She remembers her own intense embarrassment at crying, at the idea of everyone around them knowing what's going on. She wonders if Scylla had felt this same mix of shame and pleasure in her belly when she had Raelle at her mercy.

When Scylla jerks away after another spank, nearly falling off Raelle's lap, Raelle sighs and wraps an arm around Scylla's waist to hold her still. 

"You're acting awfully fussy for someone who practically begged me to do this," she chastises, smacking Scylla's bottom again. "Do you want me to stop?"

Scylla shakes her head. "No, I — I can do it. It hurts, Raelle."

_Smack._

"It's supposed to."

Another two swats follow; Scylla lets out a sob.

"Raelle, please! That's enough."

Raelle spanks her again, feeling Scylla jump at her touch, legs kicking. "Alright," she acquiesces, letting go of her hold on Scylla and dropping the hairbrush on the bed.

Scylla's limp across her, sniffling and trying to catch her breath. Raelle skims her hands across Scylla's ass, trying to soothe the sting with some gentle rubs. The skin is hot and red and internally Raelle winces a little, aware of how sore Scylla must be right now. 

"Come here," Raelle says softly, tugging on Scylla's shirt.

Scylla sits up onto her knees, wiping her eyes. Raelle reaches for her, helping position them both so that Scylla's straddling Raelle's legs. Scylla lets out a hiss as her ass settles on Raelle's lap, but it's quickly replaced by a sigh of delight as Raelle's fingers stroke between her thighs.

She's so _wet_. Raelle's fingers slide effortlessly; she pushes two fingers into Scylla, enjoying the sensation of Scylla clenching around her, nails digging into Raelle's shoulders. It's an awkward angle, though, and Raelle still isn't ready for Scylla to come, so after a few hard, slow thrusts, she pulls her hand away.

Scylla groans, letting her forehead rest on Raelle's shoulder. " _Please_ , Raelle."

Raelle cups Scylla's face in her hands, drawing her in for a long kiss. Scylla tastes like coffee; she drinks it black, which Raelle finds disgusting, but right now the bitter taste seems magically sweeter. They've barely kissed at all and Raelle's suddenly hungry for it — she loves kissing Scylla. If that was the only thing she was ever allowed to do, she'd be more than satisfied. 

She gets momentarily lost in the sensation of Scylla's mouth on hers, Scylla grinding against her legs searching for any _slight_ relief, her hands on Raelle's breasts, stroking her hardened nipples through the thin t-shirt and sports bra.

And Raelle _really_ wants to come right now. She _really_ wants to make Scylla come, too. But there's still one more thing she wants to do even more, first. And Scylla's grinding has become increasingly frantic. As much as Raelle loves the thought of Scylla humping her way to climax, it's decidedly _not_ what she had planned for the evening. 

Besides, she gave Scylla an order. She doesn't like being disobeyed.

"Still haven't given you permission to come yet," she remarks, once more putting her hands on Scylla's hips to still their movements. "I think you still need a little extra encouragement to be good."

Scylla's eyes go wide. "What?"

Raelle's hands stray to her own belt, toying with the buckle.

"Raelle," Scylla says quietly, blushing a little. "I think I've had enough." She takes Raelle's hand and places it on her backside for emphasis. "Don't you?"

"Well," Raelle says, drawing the word out. "You haven't exactly been the best behaved, have you? Teasing me all day long. And then not following orders." Her fingers skirt along the inside of a quivering thigh. She puts her mouth against Scylla's ear, whispering breathily. "If you take your punishment like a good girl, I'll make you come so hard you won't be able to walk."

Scylla worries her bottom lip with her teeth, weighing her decision. After a moment she nods and climbs off Raelle, getting to her feet. "Not too much though, okay?"

"Alright," Raelle says agreeably, climbing off the bed as well and easing off her belt.

She has Scylla lean forward on her elbows against the wall beside the mirror, bending over just slightly. As Raelle foldes the belt in two, she catches sight of herself in the mirror; she remembers standing in nearly this same spot only a month ago, biting back a sob as Scylla whipped her. She shifts in place, squeezing her thighs together as she recalls what came next.

"Hold still," Raelle instructs, placing a hand on Scylla's lower back for support. "Hold still and it'll be over soon, okay?"

She drags the folded tip of the belt up the back of Scylla's thigh, pleased at the low moan the action invokes. 

There's no warning when she delivers the first hard swat to Scylla's ass. Scylla lets out a small squeal of pain — but she stays in place, her body shaking with the effort from it. Raelle takes that as her cue to continue, whipping her again, then once more. Scylla yelps painfully with each strike, her skin turning an even darker red. Raelle admires the thin stripes the belt leaves in its wake. She's suddenly struck with the urge to whip Scylla into submission, but restrains herself; Scylla's been spanked quite a _lot_ already. 

"Raelle," Scylla begs weepily. " _Please._ "

"Just a few more."

Another _whap_ and Raelle's certain Scylla's legs are about to give out, by the way she wobbles in place. But then Scylla straightens back up, and Raelle swats her again. She brings the belt down five more times, quickly, so as to leave Scylla breathless, before tossing it aside, pulling Scylla into a tight embrace.

She kisses Scylla's forehead. "It's alright," she shushes gently. "I've got you."

Raelle places her hands on Scylla's ass, quietly muttering a phrase to Fix — taking away some of the sting. It feels a _little_ sacrilegious to be Fixing Scylla like this, but she can't help that; there's no other option. She'll have to Fix Scylla fully, later, but for now this is good enough. She wants Scylla to be reminded of her punishment while Raelle fucks her.

"Stay there," she murmurs, pressing Scylla against the wall. "I'll be right back."

She crosses the room back over to the bed, crouching down to pull out a small cardboard box where Scylla keeps their strap-on. Raelle's been waiting all evening to fuck Scylla this way, and now she finally has her chance. She doesn't undress, simply tugs down her pants and underwear far enough so that she can affix the harness, pulling the straps snug.

She hikes her pants back up, tucking the strap inside.

"Raelle," Scylla groans as Raelle presses up against her, nudging the bulge in her pants against Scylla's ass. "Please. I _need_ you."

Raelle doesn't doubt that. She can _smell_ Scylla's arousal, and it makes her mouth water. She helps Scylla remove her shirt, deftly undoing Scylla's bra. She squeezes Scylla's breasts, thumbing Scylla's nipples as she lightly thrusts against her.

It would be nice if she could tease Scylla some more, but Raelle's far too worked up for that. She kisses Scylla's shoulder blade, right below the _very_ shiny witch mark, as she pulls the dildo free of her pants, positioning it at Scylla's entrance.

When she slides into Scylla for the first time, Scylla lets out a moan that sounds positively _filthy_. She pushes back onto the dildo, so that the base of the harness bears down on Raelle's clit with delicious pressure. Raelle starts off slow, thrusting in with long, deep strokes, trying to get a sense of rhythm.

Scylla rolls her hips. "Fuck me, Raelle," she breathes, flushed.

Raelle can't resist a request like that. She thrusts in harder than before. She likes the way her hips smack against Scylla's red, swollen skin with every stroke; a painful reminder for Scylla of their previous exertions. 

Normally Raelle can't come while fucking Scylla with the strap-on, but tonight seems to be different. Every time the harness presses against her she feels another tiny spike of pleasure, growing increasingly stronger. It makes her feel wild. She ruts against Scylla like a teenage boy, seeking release. Her hand slides around to Scylla's front, stroking her clit with frenetic passion.

It's Scylla who comes first, crying out and jerking against Raelle's hand. Raelle comes tumbling down over a moment later, bucking into Scylla and burying the strap all the way up to the hilt. Outside of their first time, it's the fastest she's ever seen Scylla come; it fills Raelle with a sense of pride.

They sag against the wall together, sweaty and breathless. 

"Bed," Raelle finally manages to croak out, and they make their way across the room on unsteady legs, Raelle shucking off the harness as she goes.

They tumble into bed in a tangle of limbs. Scylla curls into Raelle, as Raelle draws the sheets and blankets up around them, their sweat-slicked bodies slowly cooling.

"Was that okay?" Raelle asks softly. 

Scylla laughs and kisses her. "More than okay," she says. "Though I'll need you to Fix me in the morning."

"Deal," Raelle says with a smile, stroking Scylla's hair until she drifts asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raelle has an interesting day at work. Scylla has an even more eventful evening. Post-series setting. Still no plot to be found.

Scylla's on her knees.

More specifically, Scylla's on her knees underneath Raelle's desk, her tongue sliding along the inside of Raelle's thigh, stopping to lavish special attention to the _very_ shiny witch mark only a breath away from where Raelle most wants her. 

Raelle sighs, threading her fingers through Scylla's hair, urging her on. This isn't how she planned on her Friday morning at all — not that she's complaining, even if she _is_ sitting in her office in the Fort Salem administrative building, her uniform trousers and underpants around her ankles as her _very_ eager girlfriend kisses a path to the apex of her legs. 

Raelle's normally not this daring, but she couldn't resist at all when Scylla sauntered into her office, announcing in sultry tones that she was going to make sure Raelle had an especially good day. She'd wasted no time in unbuttoning Raelle's pants and shoving her hand inside, stroking at soft, slick heat, her mouth hovering just out of reach.

"Scyl," Raelle muttered, eyes darting towards her office door. "We'll get caught."

"No, we won't." A seductive grin. "Just keep quiet."

Scylla and her damn siren eyes and very talented fingers and even more spectacular mouth. How could Raelle resist at all? Especially when Scylla sunk to her knees, tucking herself under Raelle's desk so that she'd be obscured from any wandering gazes of passersby in the hallway. Raelle's breath hitched as Scylla tugged down her clothing, fingers skimming along Raelle's thighs and coaxing her open.

And now Scylla's mouth is on her, her tongue swirling around Raelle's clit in long, looping circles. 

It's most distracting, since Raelle has to maintain at least the _appearance_ of being engrossed in work. She tries to focus on the paperwork in front of her, but she's overcome with lust. Scylla's tongue feels intoxicatingly _good_. All Raelle wants to do is slouch down in her chair and grind herself against Scylla's face until she comes. She rocks her hips up a little as Scylla takes her clit in her mouth and sucks _hard_.

She's luxuriating in that decadent sensation when someone raps at her office door.

Raelle only has a second to straighten up in her seat as Anacostia pokes her head in, and Raelle silently curses herself for not checking to make sure the door was locked before they began.

She clears her throat. "Anacostia. Something I can help you with?"

She sends a prayer to God, the Goddess, and anyone else that might be listening that Anacostia doesn't find it odd that Raelle doesn't stand to attention at her presence. Despite the fact that Anacostia is still her superior officer, over the years, the military's become increasingly lax about decorum. She can't even remember the last time she addressed Anacostia by the title of sergeant.

If Anacostia _does_ notice, she doesn't comment on it. "Have you seen Scylla? Izadora needs her to look over some old Necro papers."

Raelle shakes her head with more vigor than intended. "Uh, no," she stammers, swallowing as she feels Scylla slide a single finger deep inside of her. She wills herself not to blush or make any kind of weird sound. "I saw her this morning, o-of course. But not since then. Have you checked the library?"

Scylla slides a second finger in and it takes every ounce of Raelle's self-control to stay perfectly still, her face a blank slate.

She is going to make _damn_ sure Scylla gets her comeuppance for this tonight.

"I'll try there," Anacostia says, hovering in the doorway. She pauses then, her mouth twisting into a knowing smile. "I'm sure she'll stop by and see you at _some_ point. Tell her I'm looking for her."

Raelle barely manages to nod, as Scylla's tongue, narrowed to a point, laps incessantly at her clit, edging Raelle dangerously close to release. "Y-yeah. I will."

Anacostia gives her a look. "You alright, Collar?"

"Fine," Raelle squeaks out, shifting a little in her seat. "Just, uh, you know. Really busy." She shuffles together two stacks on papers on her desk for added effect. "I'll totally let Scylla know you need her. Was there anything else — ?"

 _Please_ , Raelle begs silently, desperate and nearly trembling from the effort of holding back. _Please let that be all._

A curt nod from Anacostia is all she gets, the door mercifully swinging closed behind her a moment later. Raelle exhales shakily, gripping the edge of her desk and rolling her hips forward desperately. When she looks down, Scylla's looking right back; even with her mouth otherwise preoccupied, Raelle can tell she's grinning smugly.

She doesn't have any time to be mad about it though, because one more hard swipe of Scylla's tongue sends Raelle flying. She tips her head back as she comes against Scylla's mouth, hips jerking up erratically, every muscle tensing and relaxing in the blink of an eye. 

"Fuck," she mutters, as she glances down, watching Scylla wipe her mouth on the back of her hand, licking her fingers clean, one at a time. It's a hot enough sight to nearly make Raelle come _again_. 

She sags in her desk chair, completely spent, as Scylla scrambles back onto her feet. She leans in and kisses Raelle; Raelle moans when she tastes herself on Scylla's tongue. Her brain's still in a fog. She can't believe that they just did that. That Scylla went down on her, _right here_ in the middle of Fort Salem's main office building, where anyone could have walked in and caught them.

Where Anacostia almost _did_ catch them.

Scylla traces a finger along Raelle's cheek. "Don't forget," she says, cool as can be. "We have dinner reservations for tonight. Seven o'clock sharp. Don't be home too late. I know the infirmary Fixers like to keep you after hours."

"I won't." Raelle's not sure if she'll even be able to get up from her desk, let alone do anything else.

"Good." Scylla kisses her again. "Because those talented hands of yours will be needed elsewhere."

Raelle laughs. "Yes, ma'am. I'll see you tonight."

As she watches Scylla saunter out the door, throwing a wink over her shoulder, Raelle can already feel the beginnings of a revenge plan start to take shape in her mind.

Oh, yes. She's going to make Scylla pay for this.

*

Scylla's at the kitchen table reviewing her notes from her afternoon's meeting with Izadora when she hears the jangle of keys at the door announcing Raelle's arrival. She almost always gets home later than Scylla, constantly being roped into helping out in the infirmary. 

"Hi Raelle," she says cheerfully, getting to her feet and leaning against the table as she watches Raelle shrug off her uniform jacket, dropping her knapsack to the side. She smirks. "How was your day today?"

Raelle levels her with a look that's part smoldering, part annoyed. "I think you know _exactly_ how it was."

She bridges the space between them, pressing Scylla against the edge of the table as they kiss. 

"Mm." Scylla hums smugly against Raelle's mouth, fingers curling into Raelle's shirt and tugging her in even closer. " _That_ good, huh?"

Another kiss, and suddenly Raelle's whirling Scylla around, pushing her down so that she's bent over the kitchen table. Before Scylla can even react, Raelle's tugging down her trousers and underpants down to mid-thigh. Scylla only has the chance to think, _oh_ , before the first slap of Raelle's hand connects _hard_. Scylla gasps, rocking against the table.

They've had discussions before about doing this sort of thing without asking for permission first — always with the understanding that their safeword was automatically in play. The element of surprise creates an extra level of trust and vulnerability.

And sexiness, too — but _that's_ always a given whenever Raelle is involved in anything. 

Scylla can feel herself growing wet as Raelle spanks her silently. She's certain this is payback after what happened in her office earlier that day. Not that she minds; seeing Raelle squirm, trying so hard not to come undone right in front of Anacostia, was a sight well worth the now stinging pain to her backside.

"That was quite a show you put on earlier," Raelle purrs against Scylla's ear, leaning over and temporarily pausing in her ministrations. "Did you like embarrassing me in front of Anacostia?"

Scylla can hardly lie; she knows the answer's already written all over her face. And it's _especially_ evident between her legs, when Raelle's hand dips lower and her fingers slide easily along Scylla's cunt. Scylla groans at the touch, rocking into it. She's been so turned on since this morning, just waiting for Raelle to come home so she could take care of this ache _properly_. 

But it doesn't appear that Raelle has any intention of doing that. She pulls her hand away after a moment, dragging her wet fingers across Scylla's ass before resuming the spanking. 

Raelle, for all her blushing timidness when it comes to Scylla being bent over or lying across her lap, has a heavy hand. Each slap stings more than the last, and Scylla quickly finds herself twisting and jerking away. She doesn't dare try to reach behind and cover herself; it won't do any good anyway, as she knows well from experience. Raelle will just grab hold of her wrists and spank her _more_. 

"That's enough of _that_ ," Raelle says gruffly, after a few more sharp swats. She gives Scylla's bottom a good rub, then takes hold of Scylla's arm, helping her straighten up. "Come on, let's go to the bedroom."

Scylla watches Raelle's free hand move to her belt, already beginning to work the buckle free.

" _Please_ ," Scylla mewls, squirming in Raelle's grasp. "Not that."

She can't even muster up any decency to feel embarrassed about sounding so whiny. The belt _hurts_ — a _lot_ — and she doesn't have the stamina that Raelle has. Raelle can take a dozen swats easily, without hardly breaking a sweat. Scylla's usually in tears by the third or fourth stroke, struggling to stay still.

Which, she suspects, is exactly _why_ Raelle's chosen this particular implement for her punishment.

Raelle raises an eyebrow, clearly unmoved. "I'll give you the hairbrush instead," she tells Scylla coolly, and Scylla feels an instant rush of relief, just before Raelle continues with, "but your spanking will be _much_ longer that way."

Scylla swallows hard, her mouth suddenly dry. "Oh?" she manages to squeak out.

"It's your choice." Raelle shrugs, still toying with her belt buckle. She grins, letting go of Scylla's arm so that she can slide her hand down and give Scylla's ass a squeeze. "Though I'm not sure you deserve a choice, after that little stunt you pulled this morning."

Scylla can't help but grin back. "You liked it."

Raelle's gotten better about playing stern, however. Her expression hardly flickers. "And if we'd been caught?"

Well. Scylla doesn't actually know what would have happened. Anacostia isn't the tight-ass drill sergeant from years past, but somehow Scylla doesn't imagine she'd be all that fine with Scylla on her knees underneath Raelle's desk. At the very least, Raelle would have been reprimanded and given a warning. Perhaps saddled with a bunch of mindless busy work to keep her away from home all weekend. That would be just the kind of thing Anacostia would do — find a way to punish them both. 

If it had been any other of Raelle's commanding officers, however — well, Scylla can imagine that busy work would be the _least_ of Raelle's problems. She does feel a little guilty now, after the fact, thinking about it. 

Raelle's still looking at her expectantly, waiting for an answer.

"I'm sorry, Raelle," Scylla says, a little bashfully. "I promise I won't do it again."

"I know." Raelle brings her hand up to Scylla's face, stroking her cheek affectionately. "But you've still been _very_ naughty. And I distinctly remember you teaching me a lesson back in Basic about the value of discipline to correct . . . unruly behavior."

Scylla remembers it _vividly_. The way Raelle yelped and twisted every time she brought her hand down, ass growing redder with each slap. And then Raelle, bent over the desk, legs trembling as Scylla finished the spanking with the hairbrush. Raelle had been so _wet_ when Scylla touched her; she nearly came when Scylla dropped to her knees and licked her way up to Raelle's clit, hips jerking. Scylla's lost count of the number of times she's gotten herself off to _that_ particular memory.

If there's one thing Scylla knows for certain, it's that she enjoys _spanking_ much more than _being_ spanked. Which means her only option is to choose the belt; it's more painful, but at least it'll be over quicker. 

And then Raelle can reward her for taking her punishment so well. Scylla's very much looking forward to that part. Just the thought of what Raelle might do to her _after_ sends a pulse of arousal through her, heat settling low in her belly.

"The belt's fine," she agrees, letting Raelle lead her up the stairs.

In their bedroom, Raelle tugs her in for a quick kiss before she helps Scylla strip down to just her bra. She gestures towards the bed. Scylla obliges; she knows exactly what Raelle wants. They've done this plenty of times before, though usually not with Scylla on the receiving end. She tucks two of their pillows under herself to elevate her hips, then lies down. 

It's better than being bent over the side; here Scylla can grip the rungs of the headboard for support. And the pillows underneath her create the most _delicious_ pressure — not quite enough to get her off, but enough to help the throbbing _need_ for friction. 

She listens to the sound of Raelle removing her belt, twitching when she feels the drag of the cool leather against her warm skin. She's buzzing, already heady with lust. Her heart races with equal parts excitement and trepidation. She can't help but jog her hips lightly against the pillows, wet and needy, the insides of her thighs slick. Even now she's still amazed that getting spanked can turn her on _so much_ , that it can have her eagerly spreading her legs for Raelle once it's done.

Raelle leans in, brushing the hair away from Scylla's face and pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Ready?"

Scylla nods.

"Tell me if you need to stop."

"I will."

Scylla exhales, readying herself. She grips the headboard, biting her lip, anticipating the first swat.

 _Goddess_ , she will never get used to the _sting_. She lets out a tiny squeal of pain as the belt connects with her bare skin. Raelle's hand is on the small of her back in an instant, holding her in place. The next _whap_ comes a second later and Scylla whines, trying not to move. Raelle's given her no indication of how many strokes she's going to get; Scylla grits her teeth, grunting as the belt comes down a third, fourth, then fifth time. Her ass was already smarting from the brief spanking Raelle'd given her downstairs and she jumps with every new lick of the belt.

She presses her face against the mattress, her arms already sore from gripping the headboard so tightly. She tries to relax, to ride out the pain like Raelle does, but each following stroke makes her tense up again. Tears spring to her eyes, then roll down her cheeks, and she feels her face grow hot with embarrassment at crying, at being spread out almost naked over the bed, her bottom growing redder by the minute. 

"You're being quieter than usual," Raelle remarks, her hand firm on Scylla's back as she brings the belt down again. "Am I being too gentle? Or maybe you've just gotten too used to being punished?"

"No!" Scylla yelps, flushing deeper with shame as the leather cracks against her skin. "No, Raelle," she says, quieter this time. "I'm just — trying to be good."

Raelle hums contemplatively. "Is that so?" 

She pauses, the belt falling to her side. Scylla stiffens, then relaxes as Raelle's fingers trail over the swell of her ass before dipping between her thighs. Scylla moans and parts her legs instinctively, as Raelle finds her clit, stroking lightly. It's not _nearly_ enough friction, but Scylla still grinds desperately against the touch anyway. She knows she's being thoroughly debauched right now, but she couldn't care less — especially when Raelle eases a single finger inside of her.

"Please, Raelle," Scylla sighs, hips rocking in time with Raelle's shallow thrusts.

She can feel her orgasm building already, the coil in her belly tightening with urgency. She humps the pillows, pushing back into Raelle's hand. She's so _close_ —

"Not yet," Raelle chastises, tugging her hand away quickly.

Scylla groans in frustration, her orgasm fading rapidly from the sudden loss of Raelle's fingers. She turns her head to look at Raelle, silently begging for release. But Raelle's gaze is cool, indifferent. Goddess help her, she's become _far_ too good at this game. 

Raelle taps Scylla's ass with the folded belt. "Perhaps a little more, I think," she says, ignoring Scylla's pained moan. "It's been a while since you were punished, and it shows."

The incoming swat makes Scylla's legs kick up as she cries out, twisting away. 

Raelle sighs, nudging at Scylla's legs with the belt until they're flat on the bed again. "Keep those down," she instructs, giving Scylla a hard smack with her open hand. "I don't want to hurt you by accident." She rubs Scylla's bottom again, comfortingly. "Unless you'd like to stop . . . ?"

Scylla _very_ much would like to. But she feels bad about it; when she has Raelle at her mercy, she never goes easy on her. Scylla's never gone so far as to force Raelle to use their safe word — she's gotten very good at understanding Raelle's limits — but she'll spank Raelle until she's practically _begging_ to stop. Raelle, on the other hand, for all her hard work at maintaining a stone-cold facade, is always hesitant about spanking Scylla too much. 

Even though Scylla's told her before that it's fine, that she'd of _course_ she'd let Raelle know the instant she couldn't take any more. But Raelle, soft-hearted as she is, worries. And usually Scylla would be happy to take advantage of that. She's feeling a little guilty today, however.

So she sighs and bows her head and says, "It's okay — we can keep going."

She can't stay still, though. She tries, but the _smack_ of the belt hurts too much, and she can't focus. All she can think about is the throbbing between her legs and the pain radiating from her backside. 

"Get up," Raelle tells her, tossing the belt on the bed.

Scylla complies, slowly, shakily pushing herself up onto her knees. She looks at Raelle hesitantly.

Raelle folds her arms. "Bend over the side of the bed," she says, instructionally, her eyes dark.

How badly Scylla just wants to slide to her knees, taking Raelle's pants and briefs with her, so that she can lick a long stripe up the length of Raelle's cunt. She's dying to touch Raelle, to taste her; she knows without a doubt that Raelle's soaked through her underwear. But she also knows that she won't be allowed to do that without Raelle's permission, so she grudgingly drapes herself over the bed, already gripping the sheets.

Raelle's hand is infinitely more gentle than the belt, but it still _hurts_ when it connects. Scylla doesn't even bother trying to keep count, instead focusing on the way the edge of the bed puts just the _slightest_ pressure against her clit. She rocks against it, inhaling sharply as Raelle spanks her, again and again and again.

Scylla can't help but cry, both from the pain of the spanking and her aching need to come after being so denied by Raelle. She presses her face against the mattress to muffle a sob. 

At last Raelle finishes. She leans down and kisses a trail from Scylla's neck all the way down to the base of her spine, fingers once again dancing teasingly on the inside of Scylla's thigh. So close but so far to where Scylla _wants_ Raelle's fingers to be.

"On your knees," Raelle says, and as Scylla slinks off the bed to the floor, she watches hungrily as Raelle undoes her trousers, stripping from the waist down. 

She perches on the edge of the bed, legs spread open invitingly. Her cunt glistens visibly with arousal; Scylla can _smell_ it, feeling herself growing wet all over again. She doesn't need to be told what to do, settling down between Raelle's legs, tongue darting forward excitedly. She hooks one of Raelle's legs over her shoulder, fingers gripping Raelle's thighs as she takes Raelle's clit into her mouth, sucking hard.

Raelle lets out a wobbly moan that means she's already close. Scylla grins, pushing two fingers into Raelle and lapping at her clit. It's almost exactly the same position they were in earlier this morning — only now Scylla's been properly reprimanded and there's no chance of anyone accidentally walking in on them.

"Don't stop," Raelle whimpers, her heel pressing into Scylla's back, giving Scylla's hair a slight, encouraging tug.

Scylla gazes up at her. She loves seeing Raelle like this: flushed and panting, her head thrown back, lips parted so slightly. The way she strains against Scylla's mouth. She curls her fingers inside Raelle and licks with renewed vigor; it doesn't take long for Raelle to come, hips jutting up, the small shudders of aftershocks as Scylla brings her down gently.

She gives Raelle a moment to collect herself before untangling their bodies. Scylla climbs to her feet then moves to straddle Raelle, pulling her in for a long kiss, letting Raelle taste herself. Raelle wraps her arms around Scylla's waist, drawing her in close. Her hands drift down to Scylla's ass, resting there lightly for a moment as she Fixes her. Not completely — otherwise there's no point to the whole exercise — but just enough so that Scylla can sit at least _moderately_ comfortably.

"Up." Raelle pats Scylla's ass. "Did you forget we've got dinner reservations? We'll need to leave soon."

Scylla grimaces, unwilling to move from Raelle's lap. "Let's just skip," she says, grinding against Raelle's thighs suggestively.

She's still so wound up, her cunt wet and throbbing. There's absolutely no way she's going to survive waiting _hours_ more for satisfaction. She's been absolutely dripping since Raelle pinned her against the kitchen table earlier in the evening, and she thinks she might die if she doesn't come _right now_. Preferably with Raelle's mouth on her, those long, dexterous fingers thrusting in deep. 

Raelle shakes her head. "Not gonna happen."

"Raelle."

"It's part of your punishment," Raelle explains, looking annoyingly chipper as she gently prods Scylla to her feet. "Behave, and I promise I'll make it worth your while."

She leans in close, kissing along Scylla's jaw. "I'll fuck you with the strap," she whispers hotly against Scylla's ear. Scylla shivers; she can feel the curve of Raelle's smile. "From behind," Raelle continues, nipping at Scylla's ear lobe. "Just like you like it."

Scylla thinks she could nearly come on the spot, just from Raelle's warm breath on her ear and the mere suggestion of what the rest of their evening might entail.

She dresses quickly, changing her underwear and slipping into a simple strapless ocean blue dress, trying to ignore the persistent ache between her legs and the sting from her spanking. Raelle loves this dress on her — always saying it brings out Scylla's eyes — and Scylla's hoping that this will be a step in the right direction of convincing Raelle she's earned her reward this evening. As she fixes her hair, brushing it back into place, she watches Raelle in the mirror.

Raelle's digging around in their dresser, pulling out a box from the lowest drawer that Scylla recognizes _very_ well.

She's breathless as she re-enters the bedroom, finding the toy waiting for her on the bed as Raelle buttons up her dress shirt, rolling the sleeves neatly up to her elbows. It's a wearable vibrator, slim and sleek and an almost offensively pink color. They've only used it one other time before, when Raelle took Scylla out to the movies and almost drove Scylla completely out of her mind in the process. She'd spent the whole time squirming in her seat, as Raelle flicked the power button on and off at random intervals, pretending not to notice as Scylla grew increasingly uncomfortable from the steady pulses of stimulation.

Apparently a repeat performance of that evening is _also_ going to part of Scylla's punishment.

*

Scylla thinks she really might _actually_ die.

That, or come right in the middle of dinner.

Death would probably be preferable, between the two options. 

She's been struggling to keep her composure since they were escorted to their table an hour earlier. She'd expected Raelle to start teasing her with the vibrator the second they left the house, but Raelle seemed content just to drive and torture Scylla with anticipation. The moment they sat down to dinner, however, Raelle had flipped the power button to _on_.

Scylla jumped when she felt the first slow, light pulsations against her clit, but she eased herself into it, concentrating very hard on keeping a straight face. She's had plenty of practice with Raelle teasing her in public places, but a hand suggestively sliding along her thigh is _nothing_ compared to constant vibration. And it doesn't help that she's been wound up all day. If anything, that only makes it more agonizing.

"Raelle," she hisses quietly, as Raelle flips the power back off for the fourth time that evening. "Stop. I can't handle it."

Raelle smirks at her over her whiskey glass. "You really _don't_ like getting a taste of your own medicine, do you?" She winks. "Still the same girl I remember from when I was in Basic. Always so needy."

"You're awful, Raelle Collar."

"Says the girl who fucked me at my desk, at _work_ , while my superior officer was standing five feet away." Raelle's eyebrow quirks up with amusement. 

Scylla wants to kiss that smug grin right off her face. But two can play at this game: she inches forward in her seat, running the toe of her shoe along the curve of Raelle's calf under the table, delighting in the way Raelle's expression falters for a second, her eyes widening. Scylla winks at her, inching her way up to Raelle's knee.

Raelle, scoundrel that she is, turns the vibrator back on, this time to _high_ ; Scylla suppresses a shudder, squeezing her thighs together. She glares at Raelle from across the table as Raelle laughs and cuts into her steak, looking _most_ pleased with herself. Scylla stares down at her own plate, unable to do anything but sit stiffly, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

It's almost painful, how excited she is right now. She knows she's appalling wet, that she's very likely soaked completely through her panties. And _that_ makes her blush, imagining a possible wet spot on the back of her dress — or, Goddess forbid, on the _seat_. It's absolutely humiliating to think about, and her face burns with embarrassment. What's worse, she knows _Raelle's_ thinking about the very same thing, from the way she chuckles and remarks on how pretty Scylla looks when flushed.

"Doing okay there, Scyl?"

Scylla levels her with a look.

Raelle nudges her foot under the table. 

"Don't worry," she murmurs, reaching forward and giving Scylla's hand a tiny squeeze.

Her smile is sweet, genuine; Scylla can't resist at all when Raelle looks at her like that. She's a sucker for those sky blue eyes and a charming lopsided smile. Even if she _is_ far too amused with Scylla's current situation. 

"I'll make it up to you later," Raelle says. "Promise."

Scylla intends to make sure she does just that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, i couldn't resist and ended up writing just _one_ more tiny chapter. thanks to all my smutty writing pals for the encouragement and ideas. and to all the readers who left comments of varying degrees of "this is so hot". your support is extremely gratifying.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raelle makes good on her earlier promise.

They barely make it through the front door.

Scylla grabs Raelle and presses her up against it as soon as it clicks shut, not even giving Raelle a moment to set down her keys. Raelle grins into the kiss, her hands settling firmly on Scylla's waist. The kiss is wet and heated, all tongues and no finesse and full of heady _want_. Scylla grinds her hips roughly against Raelle.

The vibrator she's still wearing nudges against her clit with the movement — but it's not just that that causes a fresh spike of desire to pulse through her: she can feel the hard bulge of the strap-on, too. Raelle must have put it on when Scylla was in the bathroom earlier that evening as they dressed for dinner. 

Which means Raelle was wearing it all through dinner, just knowing that Scylla would be _desperate_ to be fucked as soon as they got home. Scylla can't even muster up a tiny bit of annoyance at Raelle's amused grin when she looks up from the kiss; she's wet all over again, aching for her desire to _finally_ be sated. It's been _hours_ now, and Scylla's behaved herself all evening, despite Raelle's slow torture working her into a frenzy. It's high time Raelle makes good on all her earlier promises. 

As if reading her mind, Raelle grips Scylla shoulders and gently eases her back. She shrugs off her coat with a grin, draping it over the nearby bannister.

"Easy there," she says with a laugh, as Scylla steals another kiss before grabbing Raelle's hand and tugging her insistently up the stairs.

They don't even bother to get undressed.

Once inside the bedroom, Scylla hurriedly undoes Raelle's pants, yanking them and Raelle's underwear to mid-thigh with one swift motion. She wraps her hand around the dildo, pumping her fist once, teasingly. Raelle groans and juts her hips up at that, and normally Scylla would enjoy getting down on her knees and sucking Raelle off — even if she can't actually _feel_ anything, the sight always drives Raelle absolutely wild — but right now her one single-minded desire is to have Raelle inside of her.

Scylla reaches up underneath her dress, pulling the vibrator out of her underwear and tossing it on the nightstand. Next comes her panties; she hooks her fingers into the elastic waistband and pulls them down, kicking them aside once they fall to her ankles. She holds Raelle's gaze the whole time, amused at how Raelle's tongue darts out to lick her lips, her throat bobbing as she swallows.

She kisses Raelle again before climbing up onto the bed, positioning herself on her knees and elbows. Only a moment later, the bed dips as Raelle gets behind her, tugging Scylla's dress up until the hem is bunched around Scylla's waist.

Scylla moans as Raelle's fingers slide along the length of her, pausing to rub lightly at her clit.

"You're so wet, Scyl," Raelle remarks, voice thick with lust. 

Scylla groans as Raelle's fingers part her lips, the head of the dildo nudging against Scylla's entrance. Raelle eases into her slowly; Scylla relishes the feeling of being filled. She shifts her legs apart just a fraction more, Raelle's hips bumping against her ass as she pushes in all the way to the hilt. Scylla rolls her own hips, rocking back and off the dildo, desperate for release.

"So impatient," Raelle chasitises, clicking her tongue. Her hand comes down _hard_ on Scylla's ass.

Scylla hisses at the sting, still sore from her earlier spanking. But the sensation reminds her of lying bent over the bed, Raelle's fingers sliding against her clit. She groans again, feeling herself pulse around the dildo at the memory, and rolls her hips a second time.

"Please, Raelle," she whimpers, bowing her head. " _Please_."

Thankfully, Raelle seems to have reached her fill of teasing. She grips Scylla's hips tightly, fingers digging into soft skin, as she pulls out almost all the way before thrusting back in with surprising force. It only takes a moment before she's begun a steady rhythm of hard, shallow strokes that make Scylla's toes curl with pleasure. She tries to match Raelle's thrusts, enjoying the slap of skin against skin. She feels absolutely debauched, spread out on her knees and elbows as Raelle fucks her.

But as good as it feels, it's not _enough_. Scylla tries to balance herself on one elbow, reaching between her thighs to rub messily at her own clit. Goddess, she's _close_.

So close that she nearly cries with frustration when Raelle pauses her thrusting, pulling out all the way.

But then:

"Lie on your stomach," Raelle instructs, already pushing encouragingly on the small of Scylla's back.

Oh. Scylla _likes_ when they do this. She eagerly complies, pressing the side of her face against the mattress. She keeps her hand between her legs, still stroking haphazardly at her clit. Raelle shifts, getting down on her knees between Scylla's thighs. Scylla moans as she feels Raelle slide back inside of her.

She likes the feeling of Raelle's weight on her as Raelle settles down further, so that her body is flush with Scylla's. Raelle leaves a trail of sloppy kisses along Scylla's neck and shoulders as she once more begins to thrust. Scylla cants against her own hand and the mattress as, panting, she begs Raelle to go harder, faster.

Raelle moves on top of her with a desire almost as urgent as Scylla's, her breath coming hot and damp against Scylla's ear. It's raw and intimate all at once, Raelle's weight on top of her, the creak of the bed as Raelle ruts eagerly against her, their bodies slick with sweat.

"You like that, don't you?" Raelle murmurs, her hands fisting the bedspread beside Scylla's head. "You just _love_ spreading your legs for me and begging me to take you like this."

 _Goddess_. Scylla's brain short-circuits for a moment at Raelle's words. It should be illegal for Raelle to speak to her like that; it makes Scylla feel a bit slutty for enjoying it so much, but Raelle's normally so sweet and soft-spoken. The contrast from her usual demeanor sends heat flooding low in Scylla's belly. Her fingers work quicker, edging her ever closer to completion.

"Yes, Raelle," she whimpers, because she _knows_ Raelle wants to hear her say it; they're both getting off on her admitting to being filthy.

"I know," Raelle pants, nipping at her neck. "I want to feel you come, Scyl."

And that _is_ enough to send Scylla tumbling over the edge, her fingers slip-sliding against her clit, her legs spread wide, humping the mattress as Raelle thrusts into her with wild abandon. She cries out as she comes with a shudder, little sparks of pleasure shooting like fireworks all the way down to her toes. Raelle lets out a trembly moan above her, slowing her movements as Scylla rides out her orgasm.

Raelle kisses Scylla's shoulders again, softer this time, and eases the dildo out of her, rolling off and onto her side. Scylla turns her head to look at Raelle, her mind hazy with satisfaction. Raelle's flushed so prettily, a pink stain across her cheeks and down her neck, all the way down between her breasts. Scylla wants to trail kisses down that path — and she would, if she wasn't currently splayed out on her stomach, feeling absolutely boneless from Raelle making her come so hard.

Raelle strokes her cheek. "Good?"

Scylla lets out a depleted laugh. "Very good. I don't know if I can even move."

The smug look on Raelle's face sends a new pulse of arousal through Scylla. It's enough for her to gather her strength, pushing herself up onto her knees. Her aching muscles groan with protest, but Scylla's only thinking about how she _needs_ to see Raelle come. They've done this enough times that Scylla _knows_ Raelle's positively dripping; she can't wait to feel it for herself.

"Off," she tells Raelle, reaching forward and tugging at the harness, the dildo still lewdly erect, shiny with Scylla's wetness. "Clothes too," she adds, already pulling off her own dress.

Raelle does as she's told, as Scylla works the sheets and comforter free and draws it up over them. It's a little cold in the room, the sweat on her skin slowly drying.

They settle underneath the sheets, Scylla pulling Raelle in for a kiss. She'll never tire of kissing Raelle; it's her favorite thing. Even more than sex, which, as far as Scylla's concerned, is quite a feat. Raelle's mouth is soft; she tastes like the whiskey she had with dinner, oaky and honeyed. She tangles her fingers in Scylla's hair, sighing as Scylla's hand cups her breast, squeezing gently.

Scylla bows her head to capture Raelle's nipple with her mouth, sucking intently. Raelle lets out a tiny, stifled moan. When she presses herself against Scylla's thigh, Scylla can feel just how wet and desperate she is. She reaches down and drapes Raelle's leg over her hip. She kisses Raelle again, Raelle jerking when Scylla's fingers ghost over her.

Goddess, she's so wet. Scylla's fingers can barely get any kind of purchase.

" _Scylla_ ," Raelle breathes, eyes closed, brow knitted in concentration. 

Unexpectedly, Raelle slides her own hand down, too, so she can touch Scylla at the same time. Scylla's breath hitches when Raelle's fingers make contact with her clit, stroking firmly. Usually Scylla can't come again so quickly, but already she feels the coil in her stomach beginning to tighten. And when Raelle licks her lips, panting, Scylla nearly comes simply from the expression on Raelle's face.

But then Raelle _does_ come, a minute later, her orgasm overtaking her suddenly. It surprises even Scylla; she knows Raelle's been just as turned on as her all evening, but she hadn't realized how desperate Raelle was. It always fills Scylla with a warm satisfaction, knowing how badly Raelle desires her. Raelle presses herself against Scylla as she shudders, eyes squeezed tightly shut. Scylla's fingers don't stop, not even for a moment, not until Raelle comes a second time with a loud, strangled cry.

"Scylla — " Raelle manages shakily, her face flushed even deeper from their excursions, tiny wisps of blonde hair sticking to her face with perspiration. She looks so beautiful, spent and exhausted in Scylla's embrace.

Scylla shushes her gently. She kisses the bridge of Raelle's nose, her mouth, her chin. "It's okay," she says, her voice just as unsteady as Raelle's. "It's okay. I've got you. I'm here. It's okay."

Raelle nuzzles against her. "Love you," she mumbles into Scylla's shoulder.

Scylla smiles, kissing the top of Raelle's head. She traces long, looping circles along the slope of Raelle's back. Already she can feel Raelle's breathing beginning to grow slow and shallow as she drifts off to sleep. Scylla often likes to tease Raelle for being so quick to fall asleep after sex, but this time she can't blame her at all. She's feeling rather exhausted herself.

It really has been an eventful day.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scylla finds an old VHS tape; Raelle finds the contents to be rather inspiring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set between chapters 3 & 4.

"There's something I want to show you."

Raelle looks up from where she's slouched on the couch, sipping from a perspiring bottle of water fresh from the fridge. It's a hot summer Sunday and they've spent most of the morning unpacking everything from the moving boxes and rearranging furniture — Abigail and the others had come by yesterday to help out, but today it's just the two of them. 

Despite Scylla knowing a Seed to help make the furniture a little lighter, Raelle'd insisted that she do everything _the proper way_ , and thus had worn herself out shuffling everything here and there at Scylla's instruction. Not that Scylla was _complaining_ — there's something exceptionally attractive about seeing Raelle's muscles flexing and straining and the lovely, sweaty flush all the exertions built up — but she'd felt a little guilty having Raelle do all the hard work.

So she'd busied herself with unpacking all the cardboard boxes that had been left in little piles throughout the living room and kitchen.

Which, exactly, is how she'd stumbled upon the VHS tape she's currently flourishing from where she's seated on the floor. 

It'd been inside one of Scylla's old rucksacks, one she'd kept tucked away in her room at Fort Salem, one of the few keepsakes from her Dodger childhood. After the Army had taken her captive, they'd commandeered all her possessions — it was only after the war that Anacostia was kind enough to dig through the storage archives and return them to Scylla.

Scylla had put them aside at the time, unwilling to sit through all those memories when she was still sailing on a high from everything _finally_ being over. And she didn't even remember packing it away when she and Raelle decided to move into their little beach house.

She rifled through the faded navy blue backpack, pulling out an odd assortment of items: cute touristy knickknacks she'd helped herself to whilst traveling with her parents; a worn band shirt that her father had given her; one of her mother's old rings in a tiny box with plush green lining.

And in one of the side pockets: a VHS tape in a plain white cover.

Her heart had skipped at the sight of it, and heat rushed to her face and belly. _Really?_ Of all the things, she'd kept _this_? Yes, it certainly was a _memorable_ item, but not quite on an emotional par with everything else. 

Still — she couldn't tamp down the sudden desire to watch it.

And what's more, she couldn't repress the desire to _show Raelle_.

"What's that?" Raelle asks, as Scylla scrambles to her feet and goes to fiddle with the TV. 

"Just something from my childhood. Well, from when I was a teenager, I mean."

"Oh?" Raelle's interest is clearly piqued.

Scylla hums a noncommittal sound as she switches the television to Channel 3 and slides the tape out of its case, easing it into the VHS player. She punches the play button, heart thumping, and crosses the room to join Raelle on the couch, pressing a quick kiss to Raelle's cheek and snuggling in close.

Raelle stares at the screen as music begins to play, accompanied by a grainy picture and the title screen. "Kay Parker's Mature Les — _oh_."

Scylla watches realization wash over Raelle like a wave and laughs, poking Raelle in the side teasingly. "Weren't expecting _that_ , were you?"

There's a slight pink tinge to Raelle's face. "No, I certainly wasn't."

"I swiped this from a house my parents and I were squatting at when I was fifteen," Scylla tells her, eyes flitting back and forth between Raelle and the exceptionally cheesy set-up scene playing out on screen. Even years later, she still remembers practically everything.

"The owners were out of town on vacation and we . . . moved in for a little while. One day I was exploring the rec room in the basement and stumbled upon a _delightful_ selection of videos. I grabbed a few others when we had to leave, but . . . this was always my favorite one," she declares, as the titular Kay Parker begins kissing a busty blonde.

Raelle raises an eyebrow. "Is that so?" Her surprised expression melts into a knowing grin. "I bet you watched it _all_ the time," she says in a low voice, bowing her head to nip gently at Scylla's neck before soothing it over with a kiss.

Scylla shivers at the contact, breathing in sharply. "It got a decent amount of playtime, yes," she murmurs, as Raelle's hand drifts to her thigh, sliding in suggestively, lingering just beneath the cuff of her jean shorts. 

A new spark of arousal courses low through Scylla's belly. She can already feel herself growing wet, both from Raelle's touch and the images playing out on screen right now — Kay divesting the blonde of her bra, licking her way down a toned stomach. She's fifteen again and wide-eyed and frantic with pent-up lust. She shifts, leaning in to kiss Raelle properly. It's a hard, needy kiss; when Raelle's tongue slides against hers, Scylla moans, knitting her fingers into the front of Raelle's black tank top and tugging her in close.

They kiss like that for a moment, Raelle's hands moving to Scylla's hips and then breasts, squeezing gently. Scylla moves away only for a moment so that she can tug off her own thin shirt — due to the heat, she'd opted not to wear a bra, a decision already proving itself wise. 

Raelle thumbs her nipples, leans down to trail a line of kisses along Scylla's shoulders, at the dip in her throat. The moans emitting from the television echo Scylla's own feelings of pleasure. She'll never tire of Raelle's hands and mouth on her. She's buzzing with want; when she shifts in place, she can feel just how wet she is. Her cunt throbs.

But when she takes one of Raelle's hands and guides it down between her legs, Raelle eases herself away.

"Nuh-uh," she teases, pushing gently at Scylla's shoulders. "You wanted me to watch the video. So, we're gonna watch."

"Raelle," Scylla whines. 

Raelle's mouth is against her ear, breath hot and damp. "I want you to watch, Scyl," she says in a low, husky voice that makes Scylla shiver again. "I want you to watch and I want you to show me what you used to do to yourself."

Scylla swallows, mouth dry. _Oh._

She's not even a little shameful as she hurriedly undoes the button and zipper on her shorts, easing them off so that she's left clad only in her underpants. She pushes her hand past the elastic waistband, fingers sliding easily against her clit, sighing as she finally finds contact where she needs it most. She's absolutely soaked; she can barely get any kind of decent friction at first. 

On TV, Kay's flat on her back, legs spread as the blonde laps at her clit. It's not even really _that_ enticing to Scylla, now, as an adult, but she remembers very well how excited it used to make her. Just the memory of that makes Scylla groan, her fingers pressing harder, working quicker.

Raelle's leaning in close again. "You're so turned on right now, aren't you?" she purrs. 

Scylla can only nod, spreading her legs a little more and allowing her fingers to slide further for a moment, dipping inside of herself and then back up to her clit.

"Did you ever think a woman would touch you like that?" Raelle draws her tongue along the curve of Scylla's ear. Her hand darts out, fingers tweaking one of Scylla's taut nipples. "How many times did you get off to this, hm, Scyl? Did you imagine someone's tongue between your thighs, just like that? Were you thinking about another girl's fingers inside you?"

Scylla gasps, squirming. She can feel her orgasm building, the tightening in her thighs and stomach. Her mind's clouded over with lust as she worries her bottom lip with her teeth. She wants to close her eyes, throw her head back and get lost in the sensation of her swirling fingers, but she forces herself to follow Raelle's instructions and keep watching the tape. 

"I want to see you come, Scyl." Raelle's mouth is on her neck, her shoulders. "I want you to make yourself come just like you did back then."

It's enough to push Scylla forward: she works her fingers faster, harder, trying to match the pace of the blonde on screen, the flat press of her tongue. She thinks of herself in someone else's bedroom, the flickering screen the only light in the dead of night, the volume turned down low enough to only barely be audible, her hand down the front of her pajama pants and underwear, stroking hungrily. 

She thinks of Raelle's fingers stroking her hard nipple; Raelle's hand between her legs; Raelle kneeling on the floor, her tongue like the blonde's on screen, lapping insistently. 

And then she _is_ coming, bursting out against her hand, hips jerking up with a sharp cry. She sags back against the couch a moment later, bringing herself down gently, shuddering a little as she rides out the aftershocks. Raelle's hand is on her cheek, turning Scylla's head so that she can capture her lips in a long, slow kiss. Scylla sighs into the kiss, finally dragging her hand away and wiping her fingers on her underwear.

Raelle looks absolutely delighted. "That was amazing," she says quietly, bumping their noses together. "I'm _really_ glad you decided to show me this tape."

Scylla lets out a shaky laugh, drawing her legs up and curling into Raelle. "This isn't quite what I had in mind by showing you." She leans up to kiss Raelle again, toying with the drawstring of Raelle's scarlet red track shorts. "But I don't mind how it turned out at all."

She eases her hand slowly under the waistband of Raelle's shorts, enjoying the way Raelle's eyes flutter closed, her breathing coming in sharp, shallow pants as Scylla cups her through her damp underwear. She can tell from the way Raelle shifts, parting her legs, that Raelle's desperate to get off. She pushes past Raelle's underwear, finding nothing but hot, slick _need_. 

She drags a finger up the length of Raelle, the action of which prompts a loud groan from Raelle.

She's about to do more, when all of a sudden the sound of loud _smack_ from the still-playing tape catches her attention. The scene's changed and now Kay is laying face down on the bed, a woman running her fingers over her body appreciatively before pausing to slap her ass again. 

_Oh._ Scylla had completely forgotten about _this_ scene. As a teenager, she'd hardly ever gotten past the first sex scene between Kay and one of her many conquests. And she usually turned the tape off after she came, scrambling out of bed and shoving it back into its hiding place in her backpack.

Only now and then had Scylla watched the rest of the tape. But she remembers now, though, the way her stomach had flip-flopped with curious arousal at the sight of Kay being spread out on the bed, her ass turning a lovely shade of pink as the older woman slapped it a half dozen more times.

When Scylla looks up, she sees the TV's caught Raelle's attention too.

"Now I get why you're so keen on spanking," Raelle says playfully, turning to flash a grin at Scylla. 

Scylla flushes, feeling a tiny bit mortified. She doesn't mind being completely honest with Raelle when it comes to sex, but there's something at least _somewhat_ embarrassing about Raelle knowing exactly what she got off to as a teenager — and how much they influenced her needs now. 

"Well, come on, then," Raelle says, shifting and patting her lap invitingly. "You've been such a good girl already," she drawls, grinning wickedly, "I might as well give you _exactly_ what you want."

Raelle knows very well that Scylla prefers their positions to be switched — but they've come this far already; it only makes sense to let it play out the rest of the way. So Scylla obliges, lying herself down across Raelle's lap, already wet again.

"I don't think we need these," Raelle comments lightly, pulling Scylla's underwear down. Her hand skims across Scylla's bottom; Scylla twitches at the touch, already anticipating the first slap.

It comes a second later, without preamble. Scylla can't help but gasp a little, always surprised by the initial pain. She licks her lips, swallowing hard and gripping the edge of the couch as Raelle quickly begins to spank her in earnest. Scylla's much more sensitive than Raelle, but she's gotten used to the feeling, so it takes a little while before the steady fall of Raelle's hand actually begins to have an effect on her.

"Ow," she whines, as Raelle's palm connects with her sit spot. "Raelle . . . "

"Now, how often did you think about something like _this_?" Raelle asks in a casual tone.

Scylla shifts, trying to get comfortable. Raelle pauses, then brings her hand down especially hard on the next spank.

"Answer the question, Scyl."

"A little, at first," Scylla confesses. Her grip on the couch's edge is knuckle-white. "It was only when I got older that I started thinking about it a lot more."

"Hm." Raelle continues to swat her harder than before. "And did you ever do this with anyone else?"

Scylla shakes her head — then, following another especially hard slap, squeaks out: "No. Not before you."

Raelle falls silent as she continues to spank Scylla a bit more. It's starting to hurt now for real; tears spring to Scylla's eyes and she blinks them away, face burning. It's always a little humiliating being brought to tears like this, but Scylla can't deny the aching wetness between her legs — she knows for Raelle it's much the same. She twists on Raelle's lap, trying to stay still and not reach back. Her skin feels hot and tight and _stings_ something awful.

Finally, Raelle says, "Spread your legs, please," and Scylla's convinced Raelle's going to spank the insides of her thighs, only to breathe a sigh of relief as Raelle's fingers move in to stroke along her cunt. 

It's unusual for Raelle to get her off like this, but Scylla isn't going to complain _at all_. She rocks her hips against Raelle's lap, seeking further friction as Raelle's fingers slide neatly against her clit, stroking quickly. Scylla feels a little vulnerable, spread out on Raelle's lap like this with a red bottom, brazenly rutting against Raelle. It's a _bit_ shameful, maybe, but in a deliciously slutty kind of way that just makes it feel even _better_.

Scylla's already so worked up; she tries to hold back, to prolong this feeling just a little bit longer, but she can't help herself. A minute later and she's on edge, trembling and straining, and then with a strangled moan she's coming for the second time that afternoon, pressing herself against Raelle's legs, positively conscious of the wet spot she must be leaving on Raelle's shorts.

Raelle helps her come down, rubbing the small of Scylla's back comfortingly.

And it's sweet, but Scylla's acutely aware that she's come twice now and Raelle hasn't had any relief at all. 

She pushes herself up, sitting back on her haunches, reaching for Raelle and pulling her in for a heady kiss. 

"Your turn," she says against Raelle's mouth. 

She sinks down to her knees, tugging Raelle's shorts and underpants down with the same swift, fluid motion.

She can smell Raelle's arousal — she can see it, the glistening wetness that's coating even the insides of Raelle's thighs. She doesn't hesitate one bit; she puts her hands on Raelle's knees, parting her legs, before hooking one of them over her shoulder. She takes a moment to press a kiss to the junction of Raelle's hip and thigh before surging forward, wrapping her lips around Raelle's clit and sucking greedily.

Raelle groans, hand flying to the back of Scylla's hand and gripping it tightly, encouragingly. Scylla's tongue, sharpened to a point, lavishes Raelle's clit in short, quick licks that quickly have Raelle quivering beneath her. Raelle pulls gently on her hair and Scylla moans against her cunt at the action — which in turn prompts an even _louder_ moan from Raelle.

Scylla can tell Raelle's close. It's not surprising; Raelle's ridiculously wet. She's probably been aching since she watched Scylla get herself off to the tape. That, plus the spanking — Scylla can't believe Raelle didn't come the first time her mouth came in contact with Raelle's cunt.

But she's resolute in wanting return the favor for two lovely orgasms, and she knows _just_ what Raelle likes, so she pauses just for a second to ease one, then a second finger into Raelle, pumping nice and slow, curling them up to stroke Raelle right where she needs it. She's already beginning to get sore herself — her knees hurt from kneeling on the hardwood floor and her bottom's still stinging terribly, but she pushes her own discomfort aside, determined to get Raelle off.

She hums against Raelle as she continues to work her tongue and fingers, and it's not long before Raelle is straining against her touch, her fistful of Scylla's hair pulling a little harder. 

"Ah, Scylla, yes, please — " Raelle's voice is breathy. "I'm so close."

Scylla thrusts in harder, again sucking on Raelle's clit, and Raelle climaxes only moments later, riding out her orgasm against Scylla's face.

After a moment, Scylla gently untangles herself from Raelle, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand and crawling back up to straddle Raelle's lap, wincing as she sits down. She cups Raelle's face in her hands, leaning in for a long, languid kiss. She can feel Raelle grinning into the kiss as she tastes herself on Scylla's tongue.

Behind them, Scylla can hear the credits music rolling on the TV and she laughs, burying her face in the crook of Raelle's neck. "I can't believe we really did that," she says, equal parts sated and amused — and also just a little embarrassed. 

"Yeah, but, you loved it," Raelle's grin is cocky, but there's a sweetness to her words. She kisses the swell of Scylla's breasts, neck, cheek. "We should do it again sometime."

"Mmhmm." Scylla kisses Raelle again. "Shower first, though." She plants another quick peck on Raelle's lips before quickly extracting herself from Raelle's embrace and jumping to her feet. "Race you."

She skips off, Raelle's laughter following behind.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raelle and Scylla attend a High Atlantic party; Scylla plots a surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set after chapter 6, between chapters 3 & 4.

"You know," Raelle says, as she tosses the keys to the valet and joins Scylla at the base of the stone steps. "It's not too late for us to just turn around and go home. We could snuggle on the couch and watch a movie . . . " 

Scylla snorts; Raelle's been trying to get out of this party all week.

It's understandable, of course — Scylla doesn't care much for mingling amongst haughty High Atlantics either. But she knows that this party is important for Abigail, and as much as she's loath to admit it, she actually wants the evening to go smoothly. Things haven't been easy since the military was restructured post-war; Abigail needs all the support she can get.

That, however, doesn't mean Scylla _hasn't_ come up with a plan to give Raelle an entertaining evening. Struck with particularly filthy inspiration, she toyed with the Tarim's invisibility Seed until she could apply it to simply a single part of her body.

Or, in this case — a specific object she just so happens to have tucked into the tight black boxers she's "borrowed" from Raelle's dresser. While Raelle was in the shower that evening, Scylla had quickly slipped on the harness; the bulge of the strap-on was obvious beneath her form-fitting charcoal-black wrap dress. It was only after she hummed the Seed that it disappeared from sight.

She had examined herself in the mirror, pleased at the results. She'd done a test run earlier that week, just to be sure it would take. Raelle hadn't even been able to _feel_ the strap-on in Scylla's pants pressed against her until Scylla, amused, sung the Seed of Reversal. 

She hadn't mentioned her party plans to Raelle, though, simply waving the incident off as a mere joke. 

"It won't be that bad," Scylla tells her now, reaching for Raelle's hand and giving it a tiny, reassuring squeeze. "Besides, I'll be with you all evening. We can go escape to the garden, if you want."

Raelle leans in for a kiss. "I'd like that."

Once they're inside, Raelle scurries off to grab them each a mug of milk punch, leaving Scylla idling on the edge of the ornate ballroom. She glances around the room, searching for familiar faces. 

But it's Tally who finds her first, bounding up with a wave.

"You made it!" she chirps. "Abigail was just — " She trails off, her smile frozen in place.

Scylla's just about to ask what's wrong when Tally jolts back to life, grabbing Scylla by the arm and leading her around the corner to a quiet hallway. 

Tally stares at her, blushing and looking scandalized. " _What are you wearing_?"

Oh. So _that's_ what has her all shocked. 

"Right." Scylla suppresses a smile. "I forgot; Raelle told me you can see through the Tarim's invisibility Seeds — "

"That doesn't answer my question."

"Well, Tal, what do you think?" Scylla teases. Then, in a more serious tone, she adds, "Please, don't say anything. I had to practically drag Raelle here tonight to make nice with Abigail." She shrugs, splaying her hands out innocently. "I figured she could use a little pick-me-up later in the evening."

Tally rolls her eyes, shaking her head. "You two. You're _impossible_." She sounds equal parts annoyed and impressed. "Alright," she agrees good-naturedly. "I won't say anything. But you better not get caught!"

"Never." Scylla winks, amused by the fresh blush that blooms on Tally's face. "Now, shall we go find Raelle . . . ?"

*

True to Scylla's word, she spirits Raelle away to the garden as soon as they've made their rounds throughout the room, politely conversing with some of Raelle's old superior officers or members of her former platoon. It's exhausting, pretending to care. Raelle just wants to be back home and enjoying the lovely summer evening out on the porch.

Or in bed, the windows thrown wide open to allow the scent of the ocean to fill the room.

Either would be preferable to this. Out in the garden, Raelle loosens her tie and undoes the top button on her dress shirt, sighing with relief. It's not that she minds dressing up. It's just that it's different when she's doing it for Scylla's benefit and _not_ to pass under the scrutiny of some snobby military types.

Still — the way Scylla's dress hugs her curves, the plunging neckline that reveals the swell of her breasts. This evening hasn't been _all_ bad. At least she has a beautiful woman on her arm to _respectfully_ admire.

A beautiful woman who, currently, is tugging Raelle in for a kiss, tasting of brandy and vanilla.

Raelle smiles into the kiss, heat flooding low into her belly as Scylla presses in close, her fingers stroking lightly along the back of Raelle's neck, her tongue sliding against Raelle's own. 

"Hey, you," she murmurs against Scylla's mouth. "Been wanting to do that all night."

Scylla grins mischievously, She slides her hand down between their bodies, lightly pressing against Raelle through her dress pants. Raelle groans, pushing back into the touch. The sound of Scylla undoing Raelle's zipper sounds embarrassingly loud. But Raelle doesn't stop her; she allows Scylla's hand to creep inside her trousers, cupping Raelle through her underwear. 

They're near the edge of the garden, cloaked in the semi-darkness of the shade of the old, towering oak trees. It's unlikely that someone will hear them, let alone see them, but Raelle can't help but cast a nervous glance around. Truthfully, they've done much more than _this_ in public before, but it feels like here and now would be the _most_ inappropriate place to be caught in the throes of passion.

"Scyl," she mutters hotly in Scylla's ear. "Not here."

"Upstairs, then." Scylla trails kisses along Raelle's neck. "Find us a room. I can't wait."

Raelle swallows and nods, her heart racing. She's already wet; she can feel it when she shifts in place. "Are you sure?"

Scylla's smile is answer enough.

*

They manage to sneak back into the house through a door on the back patio, hurrying up the plushily-carpeted staircase before anyone has a chance to notice them.

On the far end of the second-story hall is a study. 

The normal lock should be enough of a deterrent to keep anyone out, but Raelle takes care to trace a locking rune on the door as an additional precaution. The last thing she wants is for drunk or nosy partygoers to barge their way in while she and Scylla are having sex. Especially since it appears to be shaping up into one _those_ evenings — one where Raelle sits back and allows Scylla complete control.

"I've got a surprise for you," Scylla confesses, looking gleeful.

She tosses her purse to the side and pulls Raelle in for another kiss. She hums as she does so; it takes Raelle a second to register the sound. But then it all becomes clear: Raelle can feel the solid press of the dildo against her and she knows _exactly_ what Scylla is up to.

"I can't believe you smuggled that in." She's a little awed and a lot turned on. "Does that mean — ?"

"That I'm going to fuck you with it?" Scylla's grin is hungry and wolfish. "That's right."

 _God._ Raelle is so turned on right now. "What do you want me to do?" she asks, adopting a submissive tone that she knows drives Scylla absolutely wild. 

Which is how she ends up bent over the study's large, antique-looking desk, naked from the waist down, watching as Scylla shimmies out of her black boxers. Scylla tosses them over by her purse, strolling over to where Raelle is waiting with breathless anticipation. 

She's so wet. The cool air of the room against her cunt makes her painfully aware of this fact. She's been turned on since the minute Scylla touched her in the garden. Now, just lying here even _thinking_ about Scylla fucking her from behind has her head cloudy with lust and her skin buzzing.

Scylla's nails drag lightly over the swell of Raelle's ass. "Normally if I have you bent over like this it's for _another_ reason, hm, Raelle?"

Raelle whines softly, rocking her hips back. The ache between her thighs is driving her absolutely wild. She's positively _dripping_ ; she can imagine the wet smear she's leaving on the once pristinely polished surface of the desk. She feels positively shameless, squirming, her pants and underwear pooling around her ankles.

From above her, Scylla chuckles, clearly amused by Raelle's obvious need. "I don't plan on singing a silencing Seed," she tells Raelle. The tip of the dildo faintly presses against Raelle's cunt. "So be a good girl and be quiet."

"Please, Scyl," Raelle whimpers again. "I promise. Just — _please_. I need you to touch me. I need you _in_ me."

"Such a needy little whore," Scylla remarks, even as her fingers move from Raelle's thigh to her cunt, sliding through slick heat.

She finds Raelle's clit, stroking haphazardly. Raelle groans, pushing into Scylla's hand and grinding against the desk in the same motion. It's only slight relief, though — Scylla is taking obvious care not to do much more than tease. Raelle knows Scylla won't let her come until she's good and ready. She spreads her legs a little further, the fabric between her ankles straining, and turns to gaze at Scylla over her shoulder.

Scylla's got her dress hitched up around her hips, exposing the harness and strap-on. The sight of Scylla all dressed up in such fancy attire wielding a dildo gives Raelle a particular kind of thrill. A fresh bolt of arousal streaks through her. God, she's dying. She wants nothing more than for Scylla to fuck her, to leave her a sore, wet mess right here in this fancy Bellweather study with the party carrying on below, oblivious. She closes her eyes and focuses on the feeling of Scylla's light, swirling touch, the fire in her being stoked hotter and hotter.

A moment later, though, Scylla pulls her hand away. She leans over, her body flush against Raelle, her fingers dangling in front of Raelle's face.

"Go on," she says throatily. "Lick."

Raelle obliges, her tongue darting out to lick her own wetness from Scylla's fingers. She's dizzy with lust; her mind's completely clouded over again. 

Satisfied, Scylla strokes Raelle's cheek gently, before straightening up once more. "I brought lube," she says, nudging the thick head of the dildo forward so it's _just_ inside Raelle. "But I don't think we need that, do we?"

"No," Raelle croaks out weakly. And then, "Scylla, _please_."

Scylla eases the dildo in with agonizing slowness. Raelle can't help but moan — loudly — when at last Scylla's slid all the way inside. She relishes the delicious stretch, the feeling of being so completely filled. 

"Quiet," Scylla chastises, tugging on one of Raelle's braids. "As much as I love the idea of everyone here knowing you're _mine_ , we _do_ have your friends' reputations to think about." She pulls out nearly all the way, then thrusts back in again, hard. She grinds her hips against Raelle's ass, fingers digging into the pliant skin of Raelle's hips. "So be a good girl and keep quiet. Otherwise you won't come at all tonight."

Raelle mewls quietly. "I'll be good," she promises.

It's not _that_ hard, keeping quiet; Raelle's not terribly loud to begin with. Scylla knows this — but _Raelle_ knows that they're both turned on by Scylla being bossy.

She rewards Raelle by starting up a slow rhythm of hard, shallow thrusts. The wet slap of her cunt against Raelle's ass sounds exceptionally loud and lewd in the silence of the room, punctuated only by their hot, heavy breathing and Raelle's tiny moans of pleasure. She bites down on her knuckles to muffle the sounds, her free hand gripping the edge of the desk.

The steady _thump_ of the base from the music below permeates the quiet like a heartbeat. Raelle pants against the desk, feeling the surface grow warm and damp from her breath. She rolls her hips in time with Scylla's thrusts, enjoying the slide of the dildo and the tiny bit of friction her clit finds against the desk. It's not nearly enough to make her come, though. 

"You're being so quiet for me," Scylla remarks, strained and breathless. "So well behaved. You really want to come, don't you?"

Raelle nods. "Yes. Scylla. Please."

She arches into the desk as Scylla picks up speed just a fraction more. Letting go of her grip on the desk, Raelle pushes her hand between her legs, trapping her arm underneath her while she strokes her clit. She groans at the contact, her orgasm quickly building.

For a moment, she thinks she's going to come like this, rutting against her hand while Scylla fucks her from behind.

But, then —

"No," Scylla says sharply, stilling. She reaches between them to grab Raelle's wrist. "Not yet. I want to see your face when you come."

She pulls out and instructs Raelle to turn over and lay on her back. Raelle eagerly complies, her orgasm fading fast. She spreads her legs as far as her trousers and underwear will allow, watching as Scylla steps between them, dildo shiny and bobbing with her movements. 

Scylla stares down at Raelle hungrily; she doesn't break eye contact the entire time she slides back into Raelle, all the way to the hilt. Raelle instinctively wraps her legs around Scylla, drawing her in even closer. Scylla leans down on her elbows, hovering just above Raelle. 

"You can touch yourself now." Scylla begins to thrust again, much faster this time. "I want to watch you come. I want to _feel_ you, beneath me."

She kisses Raelle hard and needy; it's a messy kiss, all tongues and teeth. She nips at the slope of Raelle's neck as Raelle's fingers once more find her clit, stroking roughly. It's euphoric, having Scylla's weight on top of her, the desk creaking with their exertions, as Scylla's hips pump back and forth at a frantic pace.

Raelle hooks her arm around Scylla, hips jutting up to meet Scylla's thrusts and the press of her own hand. She's so, so close. She is a string being pulled taunt. Her belly and thighs tighten as she teeters along the precipice. Just a little more, just _so_ , and — 

And, oh, _God_ , she's coming — against her fingers, around the dildo, beneath Scylla, biting down on her lip to stifle a moan, arching and shuddering, tiny fireworks going off behind her eyelids. 

Scylla settles on top of her with a sigh, pressing tiny kisses along the side of Raelle's face. Raelle strokes her hair, dazed.

They stay like that for a long moment. When at last they've caught their breaths, Scylla leans up to kiss Raelle properly on the mouth before straightening up and gently easing the dildo out of her. Raelle winces; she's a little sore from being so properly fucked. Her muscles ache. She stares up at Scylla through half-lidded eyes.

"Up." Scylla pats Raelle's thigh. Her face is flushed from their lovemaking; little wisps of hair, worked loose from her elegant bun, are plastered to her forehead and neck with sweat. 

It occurs to Raelle then that Scylla still hasn't gotten off. She pushes herself up into a sitting position, pants still tangled around her ankles. She hops to her feet, quickly getting dressed as Scylla leans against the desk, eyes dark with lust, the hem of her dress still bunched up around her hips. The dildo, still lewdly erect, is coated with Raelle's wetness.

Raelle moves in for a kiss, but Scylla holds a hand out, keeping her at a distance.

"First things first," she says instructionally, pointedly looking at the dildo and pressing down on Raelle's shoulders. "Clean it off."

Raelle shivers but obeys, kneeling in front of Scylla and gripping the backs of Scylla's thighs as she licks the dildo clean, fresh heat building low in her belly as Scylla watches her with an approving smile. This close to Scylla's cunt, Raelle can _smell_ her arousal. In the pale moonlight streaming through the tall windows behind the desk, she can see slickness glistening on the insides of Scylla's thighs.

She can't help herself; she reaches one hand over and grips the hilt of the dildo, grinding the base of the harness against Scylla as she drags her tongue over the head of the dildo with a long, exaggerated lick.

Scylla rewards her with a low, throaty moan. " _Raelle_."

"I want to make you come," Raelle says, sitting back on her haunches and staring up at Scylla. "Please?"

"Always so docile after I've ridden you," Scylla teases lightly. She reaches down to stroke Raelle's face, her thumb tracing the line of Raelle's lower lip. "Put this lovely mouth of yours to work."

She unfastens the harness, letting it and the dildo fall to the floor with a obscene _plop_.  
She lifts herself up onto the desk, legs dangling off the edge. Raelle shuffles forward on her knees. She takes Scylla's thighs in her hands, spreading her wide open. Scylla's so, _so_ wet. Raelle takes a moment to admire her slick, swollen cunt, before leaning in. She drags her tongue up the length of Scylla, enjoying the way Scylla shudders and tenses at the touch, clearly already on edge.

She narrows her tongue to a point, slowly circling Scylla's clit. Scylla gasps sharply, tangling her fingers in Raelle's hair, tugging encouragingly. Raelle shifts into a slightly more comfortable position, hooking Scylla's legs over her shoulders. She takes Scylla's clit into her mouth, sucking languorously as she slides two fingers into Scylla. 

Scylla flutters around her fingers; her hips rock up. Raelle begins to lap at Scylla's clit as she curls her fingers slightly. She slows her pace just a little, concentrating on making sure her licks and thrusts are in unison.

"Rae-lle," Scylla moans, stuttering out each syllable. 

She's close; Raelle can tell. She redoubles her efforts, thrusting in her fingers as deep and hard as she can, her tongue pressed flat. Her arm's beginning to ache, but she doesn't care. She's focused solely on making Scylla come. 

Scylla's breathing grows more labored. She whimpers, heels digging into Raelle's back, gripping the back of Raelle's head as she cants her hips up, riding Raelle's face.

And then she's coming — she's tumbling over the edge, clenching down around Raelle's fingers, muscles tense and straining.

Raelle brings her down with a series of light licks and kisses, enjoying the way Scylla shudders as she rides out the aftershocks of her orgasm, limbs growing limp with exhaustion and satisfaction. After a minute, Raelle gently untangles their bodies. She climbs shakily to her feet, leaning against the desk for support.

Scylla looks stunned. The flush on her cheeks is darker than before; it creeps down her neck, along her shoulders. She loops her arms around Raelle's neck, drawing her in for a soft, amorous kiss. 

"Very good," she hums, nuzzling against Raelle's neck. "And to think you weren't keen on coming tonight."

Raelle laughs, kissing Scylla's forehead. "Well, had I known what you had in mind, I wouldn't have complained in the first place."

Scylla sighs contentedly. They stay nestled together like for a long moment.

"We should probably get back to the party," Scylla mumbles, pressing a tiny kiss to the spot below Raelle's ear. 

Raelle groans. "Can't we just leave early?"

Scylla shakes her head, pulling back a little. "And incur Abigail's wrath?" She wrinkles her nose. "Not tonight, please. It'll ruin the mood."

"Alright." 

With another kiss, Raelle steps away so that Scylla can gather herself. Their clothes are rumpled and hair mussed; Raelle tries to catch her reflection in the window in a vain attempt to make herself look a little more presentable. Everyone's going to know what they've been up to; she doesn't entirely care, though. 

She watches as Scylla fishes a plastic bag out of her purse, tucking the strap-on inside. She mutters something indecipherable and the bulge in the purse suddenly vanishes. 

"Neat trick."

Scylla grins, clearly pleased with herself. "It's Spree work. I modified it a little. It's better served for things like this, don't you think?"

Raelle laughs and pulls her in for a kiss.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scylla inspires some impromptu car sex; Raelle learns the cost of disobedience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set after all the other chapters 'til now.

Scylla's being exceptionally cruel. 

They're on their way back from visiting Tally and Abigail down in Boston; for the past twenty minutes, Scylla's been reaching over to trace light, teasing circles along Raelle's thigh. Occasionally, for a second, her hand creeps close to Raelle's center, before darting away again. It's making Raelle crazy.

Twenty minutes until they're home.

She isn't sure if she can last that long.

She doesn't know what has Scylla all riled up this afternoon — normally she wouldn't complain. But also, normally, she doesn't have to focus on not driving their car off the road. 

"Raelle," Scylla breathes, against Raelle's ear, leaning across the seats. "There's a rest area coming up, isn't there? Perhaps you should stop."

Her hand slides down, pressing flatly between Raelle's thighs.

As if Raelle needed any further encouragement.

Thankfully the rest area is deserted. It's the middle of the week and too early for tourist season. Raelle pulls into a corner right near the exit, hoping the angle and the deep shade from the towering oak trees will be enough to obscure their activities from anyone else who might arrive. 

And if someone _should_ notice, well — fuck it. They're witches.

As Abigail would say, shame is for civilians.

They climb into the back seat as soon as Raelle cuts the engine. Scylla lies down, pulling Raelle on top of her and kissing her hungrily. Her fingers hover the edge of Raelle's t-shirt, brushing along the exposed skin where the material is riding up in the back. And then Scylla's hands are creeping higher; they're sliding up and around to the front, palms covering Raelle's breasts over her bra. Raelle sighs, pushing into Scylla's hands as Scylla squeezes gently.

"Patience," Scylla says with a smile, as Raelle grinds against her, already eager to come. "I'll get you off. But you have to wait. No touching yourself until then, got it?"

Raelle nods. It's going to be impossible to wait, but they've played this game once or twice before, and Scylla _always_ makes good on her promises. It's worth a little bit of suffering for a lot of pleasure. She can already imagine Scylla dropping to her knees on the grass, nosing her way between Raelle's thighs — 

_Now_ , though, Scylla's tugging her down for a needy kiss, taking Raelle's hand and dragging it under her skirt. 

She whimpers as Raelle's fingers dance along the inside of her thigh. 

"More," she pants. "Raelle. Touch me."

Raelle pauses to shift, threading their legs together. And then her hand is up Scylla's skirt once more, cupping Scylla through her underwear. Raelle can feel heat there. Dampness too. Pushing the thin cotton aside, she moans as her fingers become coated in wetness. 

Scylla urges her on. "Yes, Raelle," she whispers. "Keep going."

Raelle works her fingers in short, purposeful strokes, her wrist cramping up quickly from the awkward angle. When Scylla's breath hitches, her leg tightening around Raelle and drawing her in even closer, Raelle presses down harder, grinding her fingers messily against Scylla's clit.

There's an insistent ache between her own thighs, too. Scylla has ordered her not to come, but, _God_ , it's impossible for Raelle to watch Scylla sigh and moan and twist beneath her and _not_ think about just how wet she is herself. 

And then Scylla comes unexpectedly with a sharp cry, her hips bucking up to meet Raelle's hand, nails digging into Raelle's shoulder.

Raelle moans with her, grinding against Scylla's leg as she feels Scylla riding out the aftershocks with light, fluttery shudders. She fumbles with the zipper on her jeans with her free hand. She _needs_ — 

Scylla's fingers encircle her wrist, gripping tightly, nails digging into the soft flesh of Raelle's forearm. When Raelle looks up, Scylla's gaze is icy and hard; there's no trace of the satisfied warmth that was there only a few moments earlier.

"I thought I told you to wait." 

"I couldn't help it," Raelle mumbles, lowering her eyes to avoid Scylla's stern look. "Scylla, please; you've got me all worked up. I need — "

"I don't care what you _need_."

The words come sharply, and Raelle feels a sting of remorse.

Scylla releases her grip on Raelle's wrist, frowning. "You're going to drive us home," she orders, shifting up into a sitting position and re-buttoning her shirt. "And then I'm going to teach you a lesson about following orders."

Raelle nods miserably, climbing into the driver's seat and starting the car back up.

She shifts in her seat, uncomfortably wet, her cunt throbbing with need, as Scylla settles back into her own seat, checking her reflection in the compact mirror on the sun visor before clicking her seatbelt into place. She's adopted that cool, authoritative air that Raelle's intimately familiar with — it means that Raelle's in for an eventful afternoon and evening. 

She can already imagine what it is that Scylla has in store for her. A spanking — or worse. Scylla can be quite creative when she's in the mood for punishment. She just hopes that Scylla doesn't use the belt on her; the memory of getting whipped last month is still very vivid. She'd asked for it, then — they hadn't done in a while and she was itching to feel the sting of the leather. It had felt especially nice later, when Scylla had crawled onto the bed and slid down between Raelle's thighs, lavishing long, languorous licks to Raelle's clit, drawing out one, then a second orgasm. 

The drive back home isn't even more than twenty minutes, but it feels agonizingly long to Raelle. She can barely concentrate, so keyed up from their quick fuck in the backseat and the myriad of thoughts about what fate awaits her when they finally arrive.

*

"Go wait for me in the living room," Scylla instructs, when at last they're back home, standing in the foyer and slipping off their shoes. She begins to ascend the stairs. "I'll be right down."

Raelle gulps and does as she's told. She stands placidly in the middle of the room with her hands folded behind her back, heart racing, fresh heat pooling in her belly and between her legs. Her skin's buzzing. She's unbelievably turned on from Scylla making her wait for so long. She hardly even cares now _what_ her punishment is, as long as Scylla is touching her.

She's beginning to think Scylla's going to make her wait forever when at last she hears Scylla's light step on the stairs. She straightens up further, but keeps her gaze demurely lowered towards the floor. 

The first thing she notices is the strap-on.

Attached to the harness is Scylla's favorite dildo — a ridiculous marbled red and black color — and Raelle breathes the tiniest sigh of relief. If that's all this is, just having to service Scylla — or letting Scylla take her, roughly, as she sometimes likes to do — then that's much better than expected. It wouldn't be unusual; sometimes Scylla's idea of "punishment" is nothing more than delaying Raelle gratification. It drives Raelle delirious with lust, but it's tolerable, especially when she gets to watch Scylla get off. 

But Raelle's heart sinks a second later when Scylla sets the strap-on down on one end of the couch and gestures towards the other end with the wooden hairbrush in her hand. 

"Strip." Scylla says icily. She leans down and pats the couch's armrest. "And then come lay yourself over this."

It hardly takes Raelle a minute to divest herself off of all her clothes, folding them into a messy pile and setting them aside on the coffee table. She feels wholly exposed, being completely naked while Scylla's still fully dressed. How strange that these sort of situations always make her feel so vulnerable and self-conscious, even though they've been sleeping together nearly every day for years and years now. 

She bends over the armrest, sliding the upper half of her body onto the cushions far enough that her legs dangle in the air just a tiny bit, her toes grazing the cool surface of the wooden floor.

Scylla draws her fingers lightly along the curve of Raelle's back, up and over the swell of her ass. Raelle shivers and sighs at the touch. 

"Blue?" Scylla asks, quietly.

"Blue." Raelle confirms their safeword quickly, heady with arousal. Wetness coats the inside of her thighs. The angle she's laying allows for the armrest to put a little pressure against her clit, bringing some welcome relief.

Her comfort is short-lived, however.

Scylla's hand comes down; the slap is hot and sudden. Raelle winces. 

"I think you _like_ to deliberately disobey me," Scylla admonishes her. She drags her nails gently along Raelle's thigh. "Is that it, Raelle?"

Raelle shakes her head, already clutching the edge of a couch cushion in anticipation. "No, ma'am."

"And yet I constantly have to punish you." Scylla spanks her again. The slap reverberates throughout the room. "And I know you like _that_."

Raelle feels the hairbrush between her thighs, nudging her legs apart. She parts them obligingly, sucking in a breath as Scylla's hand slides down, fingers slip-sliding against her swollen, slick cunt. It doesn't matter that Scylla's making no attempt to touch her properly. Raelle strains against her fingers, groaning and squirming. She rocks her hips against the armrest. 

Scylla tsks. One finger presses inside Raelle, just up to the first knuckle. "Look at you," she says reproachfully, "getting the sofa all _wet_. Disgraceful."

The tips of Raelle's ears grow hot with embarrassment and shame. When Scylla talks to her like this, it always makes her feel so small. "I'm sorry."

"I don't think you are," Scylla says. She taps the hairbrush against Raelle's ass, chuckling when Raelle tenses. "But don't worry; you will be."

Raelle swallows hard, gripping the cushion tighter. 

The first few blows aren't too hard; Scylla's taking time to warm them both up, first. Raelle relaxes just the tiniest bit, letting herself get used to the flat _whap_ of the hairbrush against her bottom. It's been a long time since Scylla's used it on her — but at least it's not the belt. Or the crop. Even with a little bit of Fixing afterwards, Raelle always has a bit of trouble sitting comfortably for the next several hours. 

Though she can't help but expect that's going to be the case _here_ as well. She's certain Scylla's going to thrash her properly.

As if reading her thoughts, Scylla brings the hairbrush down harder on the next spank, right near the top of Raelle's thigh. Raelle whimpers, flinching.

"You haven't had the hairbrush in a while," Scylla remarks conversationally. "Do you remember the first time I disciplined you like this?"

As if Raelle could ever forget: naked from the waist down, bent over Scylla's desk, trembling and teary-eyed. An entire lifetime ago, back when she was still a fresh-faced private at Fort Salem. For weeks afterwards she'd grown embarrassingly wet at the mere thought of that moment. 

Not much has changed since then, apparently.

Raelle thinks of the wetness pooling between her thighs, the dark spot she's certainly leaving on the couch armrest that she'll have to clean up later. She feels her face burn at the thought and imagines her blush is as deep a rosy pink as her ass right now, thanks to Scylla's ministrations.

"I believe I had to teach you a lesson about following orders _then_ , too," Scylla carries on. "I suppose the lesson didn't take."

She rests a hand lightly on the small of Raelle's back and delivers a dozen or so searing blows that cause Raelle to cry out softly in pain. She bucks a little, feet kicking up. 

"Scylla . . . " she moans.

It earns her another hard smack. 

"Take your punishment like a good girl," Scylla tells her, spanking Raelle once with her open palm.

Raelle hisses. "Yes, ma'am," she manages, through gritted teeth. 

A pause, and then Scylla begins to spank her again with the hairbrush. Again she starts out with relatively mild taps before building up to harsh _whaps_ that leave Raelle breathless. Her skin is hot and tight and _stings_ something awful, the needy throb between her thighs temporarily forgotten as she focuses on staying still, riding out the blows as best as she can.

After one particularly painful hit, Raelle jerks away, crying out. Her eyes burn with tears. It's really beginning to _hurt_ now; she can feel herself slowly creeping toward the limit of what she can normally take. 

Scylla's grown exceptionally good at knowing Raelle's limits. She never pushes her too far; only to the brink. It's exactly why Raelle doesn't say their safeword, even though she knows she can. She trusts Scylla to know when to stop. 

Besides, she thinks, choking back a tiny sob. She knew exactly what the risks were when she chose to disobey Scylla's orders not to touch herself. It's not like Scylla's never given a command before — or metered out punishment for it when Raelle failed to comply. It's entirely her own fault now that she's on the receiving end of a hairbrush, her bottom growing redder with each hard spank. 

As she lies on the couch, her grip on the cushion knuckle-white, she can't help but imagine how wet Scylla must be right now. It drives Scylla absolutely wild to have Raelle submit to her, to expose herself like this, to lay out in supplication, to be disciplined or fucked. And it feels _good_ too, for Raelle; abdicating all control, allowing Scylla free rein. She likes being able to be vulnerable like this.

She likes it when Scylla submits, too — but Raelle already had her fun with that a few weeks ago when Scylla blushingly, teasingly showed her the porn video she used to watch as a teenager. It had been fun, watching Scylla squirm.

Scylla hasn't let up with the spanking, though. Raelle can imagine the reddish blotches on her skin turning crimson. Every new spank from the hairbrush sends a jolt of pain up Raelle's back — and an electric spark straight to her cunt. The twin agonies combined make her feel woozy with lust. She's lost all count of the number of blows she's received or for how long they've been doing this. 

All she wants is to please Scylla. To show her how repentant she is.

_Whap._

Raelle is feeling _very_ repentant right now.

"Scylla," Raelle sobs into the crook of her arm. "Enough. Please."

Scylla hums her disapproval. "If you've had enough, you know how to _properly_ ask for it," she says, spanking Raelle two times in quick succession, making Raelle jump, legs twitching. "Or is it that you're just hoping I feel sorry for you? I assure you, that isn't the case."

Another handful of hard swats follows.

Raelle yelps. 

"You deserve this, don't you, Raelle?"

Raelle nods woefully, burying her face in the cushion. She _does_. 

"I'm not surprised you couldn't help but touch yourself, though." Three more spanks. "I know perfectly well what a little slut you can be, especially after you've done your job of making me come. Did you think you'd earned it?"

When Raelle doesn't answer, Scylla brings the hairbrush down sharply.

"No. I just — "

"Just wanted to rut against my leg like an animal in heat." Scylla's words drip with scorn. "I'm surprised you're not trying to get yourself off even now. Hm?"

She stops spanking Raelle and once again nudges the hairbrush between Raelle's thighs, pressing the instrument against Raelle's cunt. Raelle groans, rocking slightly back into the touch. The reprieve from her spanking plus pressure where she wants it most is a lethal combination. She juts her hips against the armrest, into the hairbrush. If only the angle was better, she might come —

Scylla laughs coolly. "Just as I said. You're desperate to come, aren't you?"

Raelle _is_ — if Scylla were to properly touch her clit right now, Raelle thinks she'd orgasm in a second. Scylla's got her humping the couch and the hairbrush like some kind of whore. It's shameful and degrading, and Raelle hangs her head in shame, even as she continues to grind her hips down. Her ass is sore and throbbing from her spanking. Her cunt pulses. She squeezes her thighs together to try and relieve some of the ache.

The action prompts Scylla to smack her on the thigh. 

Raelle cries out. "Scylla!"

"You aren't allowed to come until I say so." 

"I'm sorry. Please. _Please_."

Scylla's hand is on the small of her back again. "A little more, I think."

Raelle muffles a sob as Scylla spanks her half a dozen times. Hard, rapid swats. Fresh tears run down Raelle's face. She can't help but reach behind her in a desperate attempt to protect herself. But Scylla simply calmly grabs her wrist and pins Raelle's arm behind her back, spanking her again. 

"Hold still." 

_Whap._

"It hurts, Scyl. Please." The safeword is on the tip of Raelle's tongue. 

"Twelve more," Scylla says. 

_Whap._

"Do you know what I'm going to do with you when I'm done spanking you?" Scylla asks. The hairbrush falls once, then a second time a moment later. "I'm not going to Fix you — "

Raelle groans in protest.

Scylla ignores her, continuing on fluidly: 

"You're going to put on the strap-on. And then I'm going to ride you. You're going to watch me come again."

Raelle nods, sniffling, moaning as another three spanks land. "Yes, ma'am."

"You won't be allowed to come. If you do, I'll spank you more." Scylla swats her _hard_ , as if to illustrate her point. "Understood?"

"Yes. Yes, I understand," Raelle whimpers, squirming, trying to twist out of Scylla's grasp, turning away from the blows that fall in steady progression. "I promise. Scylla. Please."

Scylla finishes her off with one last hard _whap_. She tosses the hairbrush down to the other end of the couch. "You do love begging, don't you?" she observes, running her hands lightly over Raelle's ass. "Especially when you've been disciplined. So compliant and willing to please. Just how I like you."

Raelle stiffens at the touch, then relaxes, as Scylla's hands linger soothingly over her raw skin. It's not Fixing, but it feels good to be touched gently now after such a hard, thorough spanking. 

They're not done, though, as Scylla reminds her a minute later. With a groan, Raelle pushes herself up onto her feet, wincing at the blazing sting to her backside. Her legs are wobbly, her muscles weak from tensing and from the slightly uncomfortable position she's been lying in. 

Scylla pulls her in for a kiss, gripping Raelle's ass with both hands and squeezing roughly. "Don't dawdle," she says, giving Raelle a tiny smack that makes Raelle jump. "I'm waiting."

Raelle hurries to fix the harness on, fumbling for a second with the straps as she watches Scylla undress: popping open the buttons on her blouse one by one, unzipping her skirt and letting it fall to the floor. She's wearing the same plain black underclothes Raelle's seen a thousand times by now, but Raelle's mouth waters anyway at the sight of her — even more so when Scylla disrobes further, unclasping her bra and shucking off her panties.

The milk-pale skin, decorated with countless freckles. The swell of her breasts and the curve of her hips. Raelle wants to pull Scylla's pink, taut nipples into her mouth. Wants to get down on her knees and press her face between Scylla's thighs and eat Scylla out until she's begging Raelle to stop. 

But that's not what Scylla has in mind, as Raelle knows well.

She watches dumbly as Scylla closes the gap between them and pushes Raelle down onto the couch with a heady kiss — no finesse, all tongues and teeth. Wet, hot _need_.

"Oww," Raelle whines into the kiss, as her and Scylla's combined weight settles on Raelle's sore ass. She grimaces, shifting in an attempt to get comfortable. "Scylla, it hurts. Can't we — "

Scylla interrupts her with another hard kiss. "This isn't about what _you_ want right now, Raelle. I don't care if you're uncomfortable. Your job is to get me off."

Raelle watches as Scylla reaches between her own legs — she smears her own wetness along the length of the dildo. It's so positively obscene; Raelle's cunt clenches at the sight of it. She licks her lips as Scylla lifts her hips up, holding the dildo with one hand and easing herself down onto it.

It's unbelievably hot: Scylla with her eyes closed, bottom lip caught between her teeth, the dildo sinking into her centimeter by centimeter. Raelle exhales shakily, letting her hands fall to Scylla's hips, bracing Scylla on her lap as Scylla takes a minute to adjust to the new girth inside of her.

Scylla kisses her again as she begins to rock in place, edging off the dildo just a bit before sliding back down on it. She leans forward, putting her hands on either side of Raelle's head for balance. 

"Do you like watching me ride you like this?" Scylla pants, locking eyes with Raelle. She grinds down and Raelle lifts her own hips up to meet her. "I know you do. I know you're absolutely soaked right now." She puts her mouth against Raelle's ear. Her words come damp and warm. "Don't worry. I'll let you come after I've finished."

She sits back a little, taking Raelle's hand in her own and bringing between her legs.

Raelle hardly needs to be told what to do next. She slides her fingers along wet, velvety skin, finding Scylla's clit and stroking with practiced finesse. 

Scylla moans, throwing her head back. Her rocking becomes more frantic.

Surely she must be close already, having already come once in the car and from the spanking she administered to Raelle; that sort of thing always gets her worked up into a frenzy. Raelle swirls her fingers around Scylla's clit, pressing hard. She's trying to concentrate on thrusting up in time with Scylla's rocking, but it's difficult when there's so much for Raelle to look at and touch.

She bends her head and kisses a trail from Scylla's neck to her breast, taking a nipple into her mouth and sucking hard. 

Scylla lets out a high pitched whimper at that. She grips a fistful of Raelle's hair, tugging encouragingly. 

"Yes. _Raelle_. Just like that. Don't stop. I — I'm — "

She goes silent as her orgasm overtakes her. She presses her face against Raelle's neck, her body rigid then shuddering with ecstasy. Raelle thinks she can practically _feel_ Scylla's walls clenching around the dildo. She watches the muscles in Scylla's stomach tense and relax as her fingers slow to a light crawl, bringing Scylla down gently.

Scylla sags against her, spent, the dildo still connecting them. 

"Good girl," she mumbles against Raelle's neck, kissing it, then dragging herself up for a long, languid kiss. She brushes Raelle's sweaty hair back off her forehead. "You did so good."

Raelle nuzzles against her, the sting from her spanking temporarily forgotten in the haze of Scylla's affectionate afterglow. She wraps her arms around Scylla, hugging her tightly. They stay like that for a few long moments until at last, with a kiss to Raelle's forehead, Scylla gently extricates herself from their embrace. She eases the dildo out of herself with an imperceptible _pop_ , wincing a little as she does so.

"Here," she says, kneeling down. "Let me help."

The straps of the harness have dug into the soft skin of Raelle's thighs a little. It doesn't bother Raelle, though; it's not uncommon, especially not when Scylla gets on top like that to ride her. But she luxuriates in the feeling of being attended to anyway: Scylla gently undoing the harness, kissing the little red indents on Raelle's skin.

The intimacy of it coaxes Raelle's lust back into a roaring fire. As Scylla tosses the harness aside, Raelle reaches for her, wanting to guide Scylla's head between her thighs and give Raelle her promised reward.

Scylla darts away though, grinning wickedly. "Nuh-uh," she scolds Raelle, settling down onto the couch beside her. "You've proven so eager to do all the work yourself . . . " Her tongue slides along the shell of Raelle's ear, down the slope of her neck. "You're going to fuck yourself. And I'm going to watch."

"Scyl-la," Raelle groans, exasperated, extending each syllable for effect. She turns to look at Scylla with wide, pleading eyes. " _Really_?"

Scylla chuckles. "Don't, then." She nips at Raelle's lower lip. "You can stay keyed up until tomorrow, if you'd prefer . . . "

Raelle absolutely does _not_.

She quickly spreads her legs, bringing her hand down and cupping herself. She's unbearably wet. She dips a finger inside of herself, arching her hips up just a little as she drags the digit back up to her clit. She's so sensitive from going so long without relief; the slight pressure against her clit makes her hips jerk up instinctively.

"Make yourself come for me, Raelle."

Scylla slinks down a little so that she can lavish Raelle's hard nipple with her tongue. Her hand slips around to Raelle's other nipple, tweaking it gently. As she takes Raelle's nipple into her mouth, sucking hard, her thumb begins to stroke steadily; back and forth, back and forth.

Raelle tips her head back, getting lost in the sensation of Scylla's mouth on her and her own hand between her legs.

It only takes a minute longer. Raelle grinds her fingers against her clit with feverish energy, hips rocking up as she humps her hand, chasing release. 

When she comes, she sees stars, crying out Scylla's name.

Scylla helps bring her down with a series of light kisses, cupping Raelle's face in her hands and murmuring sweet words of affection and praise.

"I love watching you come," Scylla says, against Raelle's mouth. "I love _you_." She rests their foreheads together. "Did you have a good time?"

Raelle feels exhausted. She manages a weak, but satisfied smile. "Always," she says, bumping their noses together.

"You're going to have to clean the couch, though," Scylla teases Raelle playfully. "You made quite a mess."

Raelle flushes slightly. She wrinkles her nose. "Tomorrow? I'd prefer to go to bed . . . "

Scylla laughs again, the insinuation clear. "Again?"

"I can't help it." Raelle smiles. Her arms slide around Scylla's waist. "But you're going to have to Fix me, first."

"Alright." Scylla kisses her, climbing to her feet and helping Raelle up. "Deal."


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raelle, Scylla, and Valentine's Day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set between chapters 3 & 4\. Inspired by the 2021 Raylla Valentine's Day fan celebrations.

Raelle's sitting on her safe house bed, bruised and bloody.

Gifts courtesy of the Camarilla; the Bellweather Unit was ambushed out on a routine patrol.

Scylla lingers in the doorway, trying to settle the rage that rises in her at the sight of Raelle looking so battered. If only she could have been there, maybe things would've gone differently. It's a line of thinking she's entertained ever since that fateful day in the Altai Mountains. 

Subterfuge and reconnaissance: things she once loved and held above all other forms of warfare. Now, she only wants to be standing side-by-side with Raelle, ready to take on the entire world. The thought of staring down their ancient enemy doesn't scare Scylla at all. She's seen the violence of civilians first hand many, many times. The Camarilla are only a natural extension of that cruelty. 

But it's a childish thought; she doesn't have the proper training. She doesn't even have a scourge. She'd be absolutely useless out in the field so unarmed and unprepared. She has to remind herself that they all have a part to play — and hers isn't being Raelle's savior in combat. It's to make sure that the worst Raelle ever sees again _is_ just cuts and bruises.

She's spent so many sleepless nights imagining a rapier piercing Raelle's chest. All that _blood_ — spilling from Raelle's chest, flooding her lungs and dribbling down her chin, hands sticky with it. It's a horrible, morbid thing to imagine, but it steels Scylla's resolve. She will never, ever allow the Camarilla to hurt Raelle like that again. No matter what. 

"I can _hear_ you thinking," Raelle grumbles good-naturedly, flashing a tiny, tired smile in Scylla's direction.

She's fresh from the shower now, hair unbraided and hanging in loose, damp waves. She's wearing an oversized, threadbare t-shirt and a tiny pair of shorts. Civilian clothes Scylla helped herself to from a thrift store years ago, when she was still looking for a new place to call home.

Raelle pats the empty space next to her on the bed. "Come here."

Scylla takes care to lock the door behind her before padding across the cool wooden floor. 

It's rare now that they're able to share quiet moments between just the two of them. But Abigail and Adil have already tucked themselves up in the bedroom down the hall and Tally's passed out dead asleep on the worn living room sofa. Willa and Anacostia are somewhere downstairs — perhaps on the porch, already discussing the next operation — which leaves Raelle and Scylla mercifully, gratefully, alone for the evening.

"You're a mess," Scylla says, cradling Raelle's face with her palm. "Why didn't you have someone Fix you?"

"Maybe I prefer to have a pretty girl like you do it." Raelle grins, then winces a second later, a thin stream of blood trickling from a deep cut on her lip. Then, more soberly, she adds, "Everyone else looked just as bad as me. Figured it could wait."

Scylla rolls her eyes. She leans in and presses a tiny kiss to Raelle's mouth. "Nobility is charming until it gets you killed," she scolds gently. "Here, lie back on the bed."

Raelle does as she's told, reclining back against the pillows, hands folded on her stomach. Scylla kneels beside her, one hand on Raelle's chest, the other on Raelle's forehead. None of Raelle's injuries are particularly bad, but in a way that makes Scylla's job more difficult. It requires more concentration; a delicate balance throughout the body. Scylla closes her eyes and times her breathing with Raelle's. 

She's no Fixer, not like Raelle, but years of learning how to help heal fellow Dodgers and Spree members alike have left her at least semi-competent, and it only takes a minute to set Raelle right again. 

"There." Scylla brushes the hair out of Raelle's eyes. "All better."

"Not quite," Raelle says, reaching up and grabbing a fistful of Scylla's t-shirt, pulling her in for a kiss.

Scylla can feel Raelle smiling into the kiss and it makes her warm all the way down to her toes. She shifts down so that she's lying beside Raelle, arm draped around Raelle's waist. It's been months now since they've made up, but it's still so wondrously shocking to have Raelle be all sweet and soft with her again. Sometimes it feels like all the hurt and anger and sadness that had come between them was nothing more than a bad dream. How easily they'd slipped back into their old casual intimacy — as if they'd never left it. 

As always, she's filled with a desire to remind Raelle just how much she loves her. She spent so much time being afraid of saying it; now it just comes spilling out of her at every possible moment. She is a sink, overflowing.

"I — " she begins, when at last they break apart, but Raelle snakes a hand up between them and presses a finger to Scylla's lips, shushing her.

Maybe staying silent will be okay, at least for tonight.

Raelle presses her back down on the bed with a gentle but heated kiss. Her fingers skirt along the edge of Scylla's shirt, brushing against the exposed skin of her stomach. Her mouth drifts down to Scylla's neck, nipping lightly before soothing the small pink mark over with a swipe of her tongue and a kiss. 

It feels like forever before Raelle finally gets around to working Scylla's shirt up and off. She drops it off the side of the bed and pushes Scylla sweetly back down against the pillows, mouth moving lower. She kisses the tops of Scylla's breasts, the space between them. Scylla sighs and runs a hand through Raelle's hair. She pulls Raelle back up and kisses her fully on the mouth; Raelle tastes like peppermint gum and smells of ginger root soap.

Scylla leans up, reaching around to unclasp her bra, skin buzzing with excitement. Raelle takes it off of her the rest of the way. Her palms move forward and cup Scylla's breasts, thumbs stroking across hardened nipples.

"Raelle," Scylla sighs and Raelle looks up at her, eyes bright and blue even in the semi-darkness of the room and _Goddess_ , she looks stunning right now, Scylla thinks, head spinning from affection and the fact that Raelle's knee is now pressing teasingly against her. She rocks her hips against it and Raelle smiles slightly.

She presses a kiss to Scylla's temple, says in a low, soft voice, "Easy, easy."

She trails her fingers along the undersides of Scylla's breasts before bowing her head and running her tongue over a nipple. She licks it a second time before taking it into her mouth and sucking languorously. Her free hand goes to Scylla's other breast, fingers imitating the movements of her lips and tongue.

Scylla's hands slide to Raelle's midriff; she tugs insistently at the hem of Raelle's shirt. Scylla desperately wants to feel Raelle pressed against her, skin to skin. Raelle seems to get the message; she shifts up and rids herself of the shirt in short order, tossing it behind her. Scylla reaches up greedily, covering Raelle's breasts with her hands, squeezing lightly. Raelle lets out an encouraging moan, low in her throat, eyes fluttering closed.

"Easy," Scylla repeats back to her with a playful, teasing grin.

Raelle smiles at that, eyes still closed and Scylla pulls her back down to kiss her again, sucking lightly on Raelle's bottom lip. Raelle inches down to Scylla's body as she works to undo the button and zipper on Scylla's jeans. She tugs them halfway down the length of Scylla's legs before they're kicked off entirely.

Raelle presses her palm flat against Scylla, through her underwear.

"God, you're wet," she whispers throatily, eyes dark, and Scylla moans and twists on the bed, feels herself growing even _wetter_ at Raelle's words.

Raelle doesn't make her wait, though. She teases Scylla with a few strokes through her underwear before hooking her thumbs into the elastic waistband and pulling them down with aching slowness. Scylla can't help but sit up and help her, just to get them off faster; in a second they've joined the steadily growing mess of clothes on the floor. Raelle pushes Scylla back down firmly with one hand, straddling Scylla as she kisses her again, even harder this time.

And then Raelle reaches up to pin Scylla's hands up above her head and oh, _oh_ , Raelle's knee is between her thighs again, and — 

Scylla arches up against the touch, starts, "Please, Raelle — "

But Raelle doesn't need to be told what to do; she knows exactly what Scylla wants. She sits back on her heels and starts tugging down her own black shorts and underwear — 

And, _fuck_ , she's moving too slow for Scylla; she can't wait at all now; she moves forward, yanking down Raelle's clothes to mid thigh.

Her hand slips between Raelle's thighs; she lets out a small groan when she realizes just how _wet_ Raelle is. Scylla's fingers are completely soaked. Goddess, she swears she thinks this _every_ time they make love, but there is nothing more arousing than the sight of Raelle flushed, the feeling of her slickness — her desire for Scylla. She moves her fingers lightly against Raelle's cunt, strokes her clit once, twice, and Raelle gasps and bucks forward into her hand.

"Fuck," Scylla mumbles, and gets onto her knees, pulling Raelle to her and kissing her roughly.

After a long minute or two of kissing, Raelle pulls away with a knowing smile. She climbs off the bed just long enough to rid herself of her remaining clothing. In a flash she's back in bed, pushing Scylla once again down onto her back with a pleased grin.

She nudges Scylla's legs apart with her knee, then slowly eases a finger into her. Scylla groans and arches, heels digging into the mattress, and Raelle adds a second finger a moment later. When her thumb bumps against Scylla's clit, Scylla's hips jump at the sudden contact.

"Raelle," she breathes, and Raelle begins to work her fingers in and out with purposeful slowness; it always drives Scylla wild, being worked up to a frenzy.

Raelle kisses Scylla while she does it, hovering just above her, her movements steady as a heartbeat. She keeps it up for what feels like an eternity, until Scylla's writhing on the bed, begging for more.

"Please, Raelle, please, please," because _fuck_ , Scylla's right on the edge and she just needs Raelle to touch her properly.

At last Raelle takes pity on her; she slips her fingers out of Scylla and begins to stroke her clit in measured, rough movements. It's exactly the kind of pressure Scylla needs; she whimpers, drawing a leg around Raelle, urging her on. She can feel herself growing more and more taut — until, at last, the rope inside of her snaps and she comes _hard_ , crying out, stars flashing behind her eyelids.

She doesn't even give herself time to catch her breath; another second later she's sliding her hand between Raelle's thighs, and it's truly _marvelous_ , getting Raelle off like this — on her hands and knees, still above Scylla, trembling and mewling.

Scylla fingers her slowly, until Raelle's breath starts coming out in short, quick pants that indicate her orgasm is fast approaching. She increases the speed of her fingers, just a little, and not too long afterwards Raelle comes with a shudder, eyes squeezed shut tight, her hips jerking against Scylla's hand.

Raelle collapses on top of her, panting and sweaty. Scylla smooths her hair back, kisses her once on the forehead and then again on the mouth, before wrapping her arms around Raelle with a sigh.

"That was some charge-up," Raelle sighs, breathless and contented, nuzzling against Scylla's neck.

Scylla kisses the side of Raelle's head through her hair. "You needed it," she says.

"We _both_ did, I think," Raelle corrects.

She rolls off Scylla and pulls back the duvet, ushering Scylla under the covers. The sweat on their skin's begun to dry, and even though the heating's been on all evening, New England winters are still _cold_. It doesn't help that this safe house has its fair share of drafty windows. 

"You know," Raelle says, as she traces small, feather-light circles on the small of Scylla's back. "I completely forgot, but today's an important civilian holiday."

Scylla frowns. It takes her a moment to remember, too. 

Valentine's Day. 

It feels like it's been ages, but it's only been just six years: Scylla, standing in her high school hallway, taking in the red and pink and white streamers draped over everything. The rows of lockers decorated with mini boxes of candy or roses or cards.

It was so _pedestrian_ , the way civilians pretended to fawn over each other over a stupid, commercialized holiday. How they compared notes about gifts or flowers, about who put on the most over-indulgent display of publicly approved affection. As if any of it mattered; as if it was actually some kind of reflection of genuine feeling.

Even Porter himself had gotten into the civilian holiday that year. He'd slipped a card and a tiny, plush teddy bear holding a box of chocolates inside her locker. She hadn't bothered to read the card — he was sweet, but a little too earnest; it embarrassed her.

The chocolates had been good, though. 

Scylla feels so detached from that part of her life. As if she never lived it at all.

Here in the present, Raelle kisses her neck, her jaw, her mouth. "This is our second Valentine's Day together, actually," she remarks thoughtfully. "Well, almost. A few weeks late last time, but it still counts, right?"

"I believe we spent the whole evening bed _then_ , too," Scylla teases, nudging Raelle in the ribs. 

Raelle frowns, feigning confusion. "Is that so? I don't remember." She kisses Scylla again. "You might need to remind me."

Scylla laughs. "Oh? Is amnesia a side effect of getting roughed up weekly by the Camarilla?" She kisses the pout off Raelle's face as she rolls them both over. Half on top of Raelle, their legs thread together. "I suppose I'll have to refresh your memory. In the spirit of the holiday, of course."

"Yes." Raelle is breathless again. Scylla can feel her heart racing away in her chest. "Please do."

She makes an appreciative sound, when, after an incredibly long and slow amount of foreplay — Scylla running her tongue along every curve of Raelle, all the while letting her fingers drift from stroking Raelle's nipples to tracing along the inside of her thighs — Scylla slides her fingers against Raelle's clit, dips her fingers inside and is pleased to find that Raelle is once again completely soaked.

"Please," Raelle says quietly.

There's no sight Scylla likes more: Raelle, lying on the bed, flushed and sweaty, twisting and arching beneath Scylla's touch. Scylla can feel herself growing wet all over again. It makes her hungry and needy. She finds herself grinning as she kisses Raelle's thigh before settling between her legs, gripping the soft skin there. She presses two more open-mouth kisses — first to the _very_ shiny witch mark, then to Raelle's cunt.

Raelle lets out a small hiss and tangles her fingers in Scylla's hair, and Scylla takes that as a command for more.

She starts out with a few long, luxurious licks, but she can't restrain her desire for long. Sharpening her tongue to a point, she licks her way around Raelle's swollen clit before taking it properly into her mouth. She sucks on it for a minute, pausing only to shift so she can spread Raelle open and work two fingers into her.

It doesn't take long; Raelle always comes quicker the second time around. 

She moans as her orgasm over takes her, saying Scylla's name again and again in a strained, high voice — and Goddess, if _isn't_ incredibly hot, hearing someone say her name like that.

And it's just too much: wetness coating her own thighs, the taste of Raelle in her mouth. Scylla reaches down to try and relieve a bit of the want that's been building up inside her, but Raelle grabs her hand away, says, "Let me," in a low, throaty voice, and Scylla closes her eyes as Raelle gets her off for the second time that evening.

 _Well_ , Scylla thinks later, sleepy and finally sated, curled in Raelle's arms. _Maybe this stupid civilian holiday isn't_ all _bad._

**Author's Note:**

> Every time I say I'm 100% done adding to this story, I inevitably end up tacking on another chapter. So, as I'm inspired, I'll continue to add on more. Thank you for reading! And thanks to [holeybubushka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/holeybubushka), [vuvalinis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vuvalinis/), and [99bad_habits](https://archiveofourown.org/users/99bad_habits/) for the beta work.


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